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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27726868">your mess is mine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastel_paperclips/pseuds/pastel_paperclips'>pastel_paperclips</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>After the Curtain Falls [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Violence, Background Relationships, Despair Era (Dangan Ronpa), Developing Relationship, Enoshima Junko Being An Asshole, Enoshima Junko Being Enoshima Junko, F/M, Family Dynamics, Feelings, Hinata Hajime and Kamukura Izuru Share a Body Simultaneously, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kamukura Izuru Has Feelings, Komaeda Nagito Being Komaeda Nagito, M/M, Mild Gore, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Hinata Hajime/Nanami Chiaki, Multi, Necrophilia, Not Beta Read, POV Hinata Hajime, Past Abuse, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Post-Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Rehabilitation, Remnants of Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Tired Hinata Hajime, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violent Thoughts, emetophobia warning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:34:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,380</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27726868</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastel_paperclips/pseuds/pastel_paperclips</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hajime looks down at his plate and frowns. Sakuramochi.</p><p>“Ah,” Komaeda notices, chewing on the final piece of kusamochi. “That’s unlucky, Hinata-kun.”</p><p>Teruteru gasps, pulling Hajime’s plate to his chest. “Could it be that this food, this food I made with nothing but my love and diligence is not good enough for a reserve course student?”</p><p>There’s a headache tapping against his forehead. “It's just not my favourite.”</p><p>“Well, sacré bleu, this would be given five stars by any food critic in the world!”</p><p>His headache is getting worse.</p><p>OR: Hinata Hajime and Class 77-B try to work out how to adapt to life on Jabberwock Island. They mostly succeed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Class 77 &amp; Hinata Hajime, Hinata Hajime &amp; Kamukura Izuru, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito, Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko, Mioda Ibuki/Saionji Hiyoko, Sonia Nevermind/Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>After the Curtain Falls [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138157</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>281</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>your mess is mine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title from vance joy's mess is mine</p><p>tis the season for demonic teddy bears??</p><p>this gets <strong>dark</strong>, please heed the tags!</p><p>playlist: <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1kZqaD3octLo8n7c4KZC5H">:)</a></p><p>also: in the report card Hajime's likes and dislikes are listed as kusamochi and sakuramochi respectively</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We’ll always be here if you need us!” Naegi smiles at them, the screen crowded with other people. The headmaster’s daughter is standing by his shoulder and Togami Byakuya, the real one this time, is sitting next to him and tapping away at another screen, muttering about time and stupid brunettes who smile too much.</p><p>“Thank you all, for everything,” Sonia curtsies, and Hajime nods a short agreement. “I hope that you are successful in all you attempt!”</p><p>“Thanks, Sonia,” Naegi scratches at his neck. “The new supplies should arrive in two days and there are seeds in the crates so you can start growing your own-”</p><p>“You’ve told them that, Makoto,” Togami drawls and the purple-haired girl shoots him a look. “Komaru will be at the station soon.”</p><p>Naegi gasps and immediately starts to grab papers at random, already halfway out of the room before he yells “Bye!” over his shoulder and the screen goes black.</p><p>“What pure friendship!” Sonia claps. “Perhaps we too will one day achieve the same levels of faith in one another!”</p><p>“We just got out of a killing game where six of us actively tried to kill other people,” Hajime mutters, leaning under the table to switch off the feeble power supply. Izuru’s mass of hair slips over his shoulder to obscure his vision and he swears under his breath. “Faith might take a while.”</p><p>To her credit, Sonia doesn't even falter, though that’s probably because she’s currently sleeping with one of those said murderers. “That number is incorrect Hinata-san! While you may have triggered the killing game into existence” - he winces - “you never actively tried to murder someone! And you never will!”</p><p>Hajime raises an eyebrow. </p><p>“From this point towards,” she amends, still smiling. Eerily, he’s reminded of Komaeda.</p><p><b>Forward</b>, Izuru frowns. <b>The phrase is forward.</b></p><p>“Whatever,” Hajime sighs, pushing himself up. Glancing at the clock, he almost winces. It's a little after three in the morning and, thanks to the time difference that comes with living in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, it's the only time that actually works for communication with the remainder of Class 78-A. “I should get some sleep.”</p><p>“Of course!”</p><p>The door to Sea King Industries’ meeting room slides shut behind him and Hajime exhales, rubbing a hand down his face.</p><p><b>You were correct in your assessment of requiring sleep</b>, Izuru reminds him, voice flickering through the back of his mind and providing a constant reminder of his biggest mistake.</p><p>“Then shut up and let me get some.”</p><p>
  <b>I had not realised you were planning to revisit your habit of sleeping in the middle of abandoned research facilities.</b>
</p><p>“Wasn’t that <em> your </em> habit?” Hajime’s fists clench as he strides down the dusty corridors and shoves the metal doors open. The night air is warm, like the heat of a tank engine after a battle, and he feels his muscles start to unwind.</p><p>Izuru doesn’t reply but he probably got bored of the conversation rather than outwitted by Hajime. Slowly, he begins the trek back to his cottage, ready for another long night of nightmares hanging over him until sunlight streams in through his windows.</p><p> </p><p>They’ve grown, the sixteen of them. Some literally, some mentally. </p><p>Akane is taller than him and every time he looks at Hiyoko he has to do a double-take. Peko is trying desperately to become her own person and Mitarai's voice gets a little louder with each new day.</p><p>Still, some things remain.</p><p>“Are you an idiot?” Mahiru exclaims, hands on her hips. “Trust a stupid boy like you to nearly burn down the island!”</p><p>Souda winces and Hajime tries to walk past them and the smoking television to continue his stroll around the islands. He’s unsuccessful. </p><p>“Hey, Hinata, tell him he needs to be more careful!”</p><p>He sucks in a breath and turns back to them. “He probably just made a mistake-”</p><p>“A <em> mistake?” </em>Mahiru scoffs. “Isn’t he supposed to be the Ultimate Mechanic? He shouldn’t-”</p><p>“I said sorry!” Souda finally yells back. “Now get out of my face!”</p><p>“Or what?” she challenges and the other boy’s face twists in anger. </p><p>“Or I’ll-”</p><p>“Souda,” Hajime places a hand on his arm and he starts, turning to him with wide eyes. “It was a mistake, that’s all.” Mahiru wrinkles her nose but she’s stepped back. “Why don’t you both just take a few minutes?”</p><p>“Ultimate Babysitter,” Souda mutters under his breath but it isn’t mean-spirited and Mahiru cracks a small smile.</p><p>Hajime carries on and the sun is bright. The third island is full of dust and decaying buildings - the research scientists who lived here to pioneer the Neo World Program certainly weren’t spending their weeknights at the Titty Typhoon and the rundown motel when they had an entire world to create from code.</p><p>So he’s not that surprised when, as he walks past, a sign cracks down the middle and sends shards of plastic falling into the overgrown grass.</p><p>Most of their little group will still be on the first island at this time in the morning but voices are floating down the street to where Hajime is making his unofficially official daily rounds.</p><p>“She hated those shows,” Fuyuhiko snickers at the back of the electric avenue. “Always bitched about how the girls never had any actual development, were just eye candy for the protag.”</p><p>“Did you watch them with her?” Peko inquires quietly and Fuyuhiko nods, slotting the DVD back onto the dusty shelf. The entire alley is close to falling in on itself, held up by rotting wooden beams and covered in defunct light bulbs. It suits the two of them.</p><p>“Natsumi woulda fucking killed me if I hadn’t,” he answers.</p><p>Hajime leaves.</p><p> </p><p>He stares at himself in the mirror and squeezes the scissors.</p><p><b>Do it or do not</b>, Izuru tells him, sounding bored. He always sounds bored. </p><p>Hajime grabs a chunk of hair and hacks it off. The long black strands land in his sink with a wet slap. There’s a noise oddly like a sigh and suddenly his hands are moving without his consent.</p><p>Hajime watches as Izuru returns his hair to its former style, spikes framing his face and sticking up at the very back. </p><p>“Ultimate Hairdresser?”</p><p><b>Obviously.</b> </p><p>Hajime snorts. </p><p>It looks… <em> weird </em>coupled with the black hair but there’s nothing he can do for that. Whatever those scientists did permanently changed the melanin composition of his hair follicles and beyond smearing his hair in mud, he can’t think of an easy fix.</p><p>
  <b>You are heavily opposed to dark hair.</b>
</p><p>“I’m heavily opposed to everything to do with you,” Hajime mutters, leaning in and sweeping some loose strands to the floor. His scar, the long one carved through his forehead, is shimmering in the overhead lights. </p><p>
  <b>You are going to be late.</b>
</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Hajime rolls his shoulders back and ducks out of his cottage. The tropical breeze feels strange on his exposed neck, slightly too similar to the simulation for comfort but he refuses to grab a jacket and face Izuru’s satisfaction. </p><p>Ibuki’s excitement reaches him metres before the sight of them does: they’re all gathered around a makeshift fire pit in the middle of the beach and they’re all lit up in orange. Nidai is tending to the flames with Fuyuhiko by his side and Teruteru is handing out marshmallows from Naegi’s latest supplies. There’s a sad selection of litter scattered over the beach, carried over from continents with the tide and while Hajime wasn't expecting the Tragedy to have prompted stronger waste disposal laws, it's still a downer to see the physical consequences of what could be stopped.</p><p>It's not long before Akane notices him but Hiyoko is the one to gasp at his hair.</p><p>“Hinata finally fixed it!” she seizes Mahiru’s arm and the redhead sighs, shrugging at him in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “You don’t look homeless anymore!”</p><p>
  <b>They are incredibly loud.</b>
</p><p>“Yeah,” Hajime smiles.</p><p>“Ah, Hinata, you made it,” the Impostor claps his shoulder and moves to indicate a seat between Mikan and Mitarai, seemingly oblivious to the two’s conversation. The Impostor has established himself as the leader again and Hajime was more than willing to hand over the reins to him. The only reason he was in charge in the first place was because of Izuru. “Sit there. Now.”</p><p>Hajime rolls his eyes but obeys. Mikan squeaks at his appearance and quickly turns to shoddily insert herself into the debate between Gundham and Souda about hair products. </p><p>Mitarai nods at him, sneaking a look at the Impostor but the other boy has already turned to supervise Ibuki and Akane’s marshmallow eating contest. The only winner appears to be Teruteru who keeps making remarks about how the girls’ cheeks look bulged out and stretched around the white.</p><p>“Your hair looks very nice, Hinata-san!” Sonia greets him. “Very fetching! You wouldn't look out of place in one of Japan’s famous motorcycle gangs!”</p><p>“Japan doesn't really <em>have </em>motorcycle gangs anymore,” Hajime shrugs off the comment. “And I don’t even know how to drive.”</p><p>He turns away from her, scanning the crowd.</p><p>Komaeda is sitting on his own log, arms wrapped around his thin shoulders. He looks blankly at Hajime, once, before turning away. Hajime frowns. He hadn’t wanted a rhapsody on his decisions and what they meant for his hope but he’d prefer that to his indifference. Komaeda rests his chin on his hand and Hajime can’t really think about Komaeda without remembering his hints during the killing game, how even when he was degrading his very existence he was pointing him towards missing doorknobs and misbehaving compasses. There’s so much he still has to learn about these people.</p><p>“Perfect, Fuyuhiko!” Nidai booms and they all turn. There’s a shower of sparks as one of the logs crack, warmth rushing over them. “You should consider playing volleyball!”</p><p>“How the fuck’s that got anything to with firelighting,” Fuyuhiko mutters, rubbing at his neck, clearly uncomfortable at the sudden attention. On cue, Peko knocks Ibuki slightly and the other girl starts to choke on her marshmallows.</p><p>“Ibuki!” Mahiru panics, rushing to perform the Heimlich and Akane is hitting her back and Hiyoko is freaking out and the beach has transformed into a mess of controlled chaos.</p><p>And it's not perfect because sometimes Mikan snaps at someone and every so often Nidai will push Akane just a little <em>too </em>hard and when Komaeda wheezes at a joke they all freeze but it’s <em>something</em>.</p><p> </p><p>They have access to the internet now, thanks to Souda’s accidental genius and Naegi’s unwavering patience. <strike> Hajime hates him. </strike> It's telling that the first thing YouTube recommends is a compilation of the best deaths and explosions of 20XX followed by the ‘Most Despairing Songs And Shows of Ibuki Mioda Best Hot Murder Death Prank Despair!! 🎵🎶’. The preview shows her whipping the corpse of her bass guitarist back and forth while her drummer wails.</p><p>There are only two computers, one in the library, one behind the reception desk at the hotel, and both are drowned in wires and extension cords. Occasionally, Hajime will see Mikan and Mitarai watching cartoons together; he hopes the Impostor doesn't find them, he’s never approved of their friendship and would likely force Souda into rigging up security cameras over half the island. </p><p>Hajime shudders. He’s <em>done </em>with having his every move watched by people he’s never really met. Even now, he finds himself glancing up at the ceilings for those banana-yellow cameras.</p><p>Still, the realisation that people are still using the things <em>they </em>did to further despair fills him with a crushing disappointment. He wonders what Ibuki thinks. But Ibuki seems to have a sixth sense for when she’s being thought about and careens into reception to drape herself over his shoulders. </p><p>“Good morning, Hajime-chan! Are you watching porn?”</p><p>“No,” he replies, and feels Izuru’s annoyance at the interruption in the back of his mind. “Are you feeling better today?”</p><p>“Not to worry Hajime-chan! Ibuki can unhinge her jaw like a snake!” she beams like that’s not the most off-putting thing he’s heard today and shoves him to the side so she can perch on the edge of his chair. “Should we watch a film?”</p><p>“If you can find one,” he concedes and she shrieks in excitement, scrambling for the touchpad. Four minutes into an old Disney film she’s tugging him back outside to play hide and seek and thirteen minutes after that he finds himself praying to the Greek god of the sea for a bountiful harvest.</p><p>Izuru sniffs. <b>Predictable. </b></p><p> </p><p>One night, Hajime creeps across the islands to the library and watches one of their old propaganda pieces. Unsurprisingly, most of the search results star Sonia but there are a few standouts - one thumbnail shows Komaeda, crumpled and surrounded by children in Monokuma masks and Hajime isn’t quite sure what to think. It's got 31 million views and when he gives into temptation and clicks it, the like to dislike ratio is a 50/50 split.</p><p>The Komaeda in the video lifts his head and it only takes a glimpse at the despair in his eyes to make Hajime hastily return to his search and select one of Sonia’s.</p><p>The video’s short, just eight minutes of her smiling threats at the crowd, and it's not long before blood gushes, people and reporters slitting their own throats to her words. There’s an eruption of screams and cheers and Sonia laughs her perfect princess laugh, clapping gloved hands together like the thin silk will protect her soul from the guilt she should be suffocating in. She’s draped in as much blood as the rest of them, no matter how many layers her skirts have.</p><p>Just when he thinks it's over, Gundham strides through the bodies, a Burmese python draped over his shoulders, to pull her into a deep kiss. It probably says a lot about him that the most jarring part of the whole video is Mahiru heckling them from the sidelines.</p><p>[The top comment is a crude remark about Gundham’s ‘snake’ like the whole thing is a joke.]</p><p> </p><p>“Yo!” Akane yells. “Hajime!”</p><p>He nods and slows down for her because what else <em>can </em>he do?</p><p><b>There are approximately 310, 746 other responses</b>, Izuru hisses from the corner of Hajime’s mind.</p><p>“Only approximately? That’s disappointing,” he remarks dryly. He can’t tell if the words always come from the same direction or if the experience of sharing his brain with someone else is finally starting to drive him crazy.</p><p>Either way, Akane doesn’t seem to notice his distraction and starts to chatter about the new diet regimen she’d been on since waking up - starvation is an awful way to go and recovery takes longer than just dying. The two of them make their way down the path past the diner, following the call of the waves.</p><p>“Cause Coach is always sayin’ that I can’t handle fightin’ him at his full power yet but I totally could, I mean I’ve been eatin’ right, doin’ the daily exercises and they’re <em>way </em>below what I can do and I get that he’s all ‘worried’,” she crooks her fingers like she doesn’t really believe it. “About pushing me too far or whatever but-”</p><p>Hajime glances to the side and blinks.</p><p>Fuyuhiko, Souda and Komaeda are laughing together under the shade of a crooked sun umbrella, spread out over the slightly ratty beach towels that were found under the hotel’s reception desk. Well, Komaeda’s doing most of the laughing, Souda and Fuyuhiko instead opting to loudly argue about the integrity of sandcastle construction.</p><p>Souda is shirtless and Fuyuhiko is in a loose white underlayer that Hajime thinks might be Peko’s while Komaeda’s jacket is draped around his waist, pale chest exposed.</p><p>Strangely, the sight reminds him of Chiaki walking into the diner before the second trial in her frilled white bikini.</p><p>As Hajime watches, a wave crashes halfway up the beach and sweeps their, admittedly below average, sandcastle away.</p><p>“Dude!” Souda flops backwards, arms crossed. “I <em> said </em> we should have built a moat!”</p><p>“How would a moat have protected it from a wave like that?!” Fuyuhiko slams his plastic shovel against the sand and it's a lot more intimidating than it should be.</p><p>“It would have absorbed the shock!” Souda insists. “And what were the odds?”</p><p>“Sorry,” Komaeda smiles at them, coconut juice in his hand.</p><p>Souda sighs and jumps up to grab the bright purple bucket. “Eighth time’s the charm I guess. And this time we’re building a moat!” he yells over his shoulder.</p><p>Hajime feels himself moving but his eyes are fixed on Komaeda. He’s so… different with other people. </p><p>Fuyuhiko grumbles to himself, stretching and jogging down the beach to gather more shells. Komaeda smiles after them and reaches down to start digging out a moat with a small piece of driftwood. He takes a sip of his coconut juice.</p><p>Akane is still talking, gesturing violently and punching her hands together with so much force that Hajime nearly tells her that she should take it easier if she really wants to be back to her old strength.</p><p>They’re at the top of the beach but none of the boys have noticed them. Komaeda pushes his hair back and for a moment, Hajime sees the gleam of grey-green eyes lit up by the sun.</p><p>“Right?!” Akane stresses, grinning down at him.</p><p>Hajime nods, still staring at the curve of Komaeda’s shoulders. “Yeah, sure.”</p><p> </p><p>“Here!” Teruteru beams, presenting the mochi-laden table with a flourish. There’s a chorus of praise and Hiyoko is already tugging Ibuki and Mahiru over to the prettiest ones. Hajime had assumed that Teruteru would abandon cooking in the same way that Mahiru hasn’t touched a camera in months and how Gundham is wary of the islands’ wildlife, but he’d thrown himself back into it with a passion and when there’s a new shipment of supplies, he’s always the first one at the docks.</p><p>Hajime thinks about how when he ‘died’ all they cared about was the loss of his cooking and slumps a little further into his chair.</p><p>He looks down at his plate and frowns. Sakuramochi.</p><p>“Ah,” Komaeda notices, chewing on the final piece of kusamochi. “That’s unlucky, Hinata-kun.”</p><p>Teruteru gasps, pulling Hajime’s plate to his chest. “Could it be that this food, this food I made with nothing but my love and diligence is not good enough for a reserve course student?”</p><p>There’s a headache tapping against his forehead. “It's just not my favourite.”</p><p>“Well, sacré bleu, this would be given five stars by any food critic in the world!”</p><p>“Ultimate Food Critic, that’s a new one,” Souda grins, leaning over the table to steal another piece of mochi.</p><p>“I’ve just never liked sakuramochi,” Hajime frowns. “That’s all it is.”</p><p>Komaeda is still watching him, eyelids slightly lowered and grey-green eyes slightly shining. “Hinata-kun-”</p><p>Mikan’s chopsticks click against her plate and Komaeda falls silent. </p><p>His chest is rising and falling in four-second intervals like he’s counting the beats between each one. </p><p>Souda is still discussing the merits of this newfound talent with Teruteru and Komaeda is still staring and everyone is still talking.</p><p>Hajime pointedly turns away to the other table.</p><p>“Ah, Hinata, perfect!” Nidai exclaims. “You agree, correct?”</p><p>Mahiru, Akane and Hiyoko are all looking at him expectantly. “Yep.” </p><p>“Eh?” Hiyoko shrieks. “<em>Hinata </em> jerks off twice a day?”</p><p>His headache is getting worse.</p><p> </p><p>“Hurry up!” Mahiru pushes him, close to tears. The two of them nearly collide into a wall as they sprint down to the cottages, air screeching past them.</p><p>The cottage door is swinging back and forth despite the lack of wind and he can hear a horrible, horrible laughing.</p><p>“Komaeda-” the Impostor demands, hands fastened around the pale boy’s wrists as he thrashes. Mikan is sobbing and Fuyuhiko is standing by the door with his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. </p><p>Hajime steps into the cabin and the room stills.</p><p>Slowly, Komaeda lifts his head. He smiles.</p><p>“Ah, Kamukura-kun.”</p><p>And isn't it strangely normal to have Komaeda look at him and instantly see past <em>everything </em>to the fractures beneath. If he’s feeling spiteful, he’ll dig his blunt nails in and see if he can make Hajime’s mind bleed.</p><p>Komaeda slowly tilts his head to the side, abnormally calm. His eyes are spiralling, ringed in hopelessness and despair. “Are you here to have sex?”</p><p>Hajime stills. A rug has been yanked out from under him and he has fallen onto the spikes that murdered Chiaki.</p><p>“We might have an audience but,” Komaeda sweeps a dismissive gaze over them, lifting a shoulder and letting it drop. “That’s never <em> really </em> bothered you.”</p><p>Everyone is silent.</p><p>Hajime is suddenly very aware of the gaps between the flimsy wooden floorboards he’s standing on and he wonders if someone is going to try and impale him. If they were in it together, Fuyuhiko could dive for his feet and bend the skewer to the side so that he couldn’t just step away. If he bent down to free himself and Mahiru was so inclined, she could shove him to the side and the metal could rip through his skin as he crashed to the ground. He could die like that, bleeding out from two circular skewer wounds through the bottoms of his feet.</p><p>Komaeda frowns, pale lips curling downwards in annoyance. “Are you ignoring me?”</p><p>Abruptly, he starts to laugh, wheeze, cough out his breaths. Mikan’s hands twitch like she wants to hit his back but Hajime knows that if she did, her hand would be torn from her wrist, bones and cartilage popping and cracking out of place like the dry logs in Nidai’s fire pit. Komaeda isn’t physically strong but he’s so unpredictable that the violence would occur before any of them could blink.</p><p>“This really <em>is </em>despairing - to have finally become so unremarkable, so useless when all you need is a body, a mouth, anything, anyone… I suppose I’m not even that anymore…” he runs two hands down his gaunt face, pulling the waxy skin down. Hajime can see the clusters of blood vessels at the base of his eyes and he could follow his veins up from his wrists to his heart if he really wanted, the purple lines carved out against the ivory.</p><p>Komaeda jolts up and Fuyuhiko growls a warning (he won’t do anything, not really, not when the sight of blood now makes him light-headed, but his presence makes everyone else in the room feel stronger).</p><p>“Is it this?” Komaeda asks innocently, now standing inches away from him, alone in the middle of the room. </p><p>He holds up the arm Hajime and Souda <strike>and Izuru</strike> spent so long on, nose wrinkled in disdain. </p><p>“I’ll tear it off, I’ll tear the other arm off, I’ll paint my nails - you liked that, right? I don’t know where I’ll find the polish but blood will do-”</p><p>“Komaeda!” Mahiru pleads. “Shut up!” </p><p>Komaeda’s lips twist into something wicked and his eyes slide back to Hajime’s. “Kamukura-kun doesn't want me to shut up. He wants me to debase myself <em>completely,</em>” he breathes out the last word like it's a prayer. <em> Kamukura-kun </em>is conspicuously absent and Hajime has finally had enough. </p><p>“<em>Stop!</em>” he yells, rage rising up and crashing down over him. “<em>Just stop it!</em>”</p><p>Komaeda doesn't stop, he leans even further into his space and peers into his red eye. “Oh.” </p><p>“Oh?” the Impostor finally says. He’s still on the bed and his hands are folded in his lap. He looks calm. Hajime has no idea what he’s thinking.</p><p>“It's <em> you</em>.”</p><p>Komaeda sounds so honestly disgusted that Hajime stumbles back. </p><p>“The boy who was so desperate to actually be someone he turned himself into a science experiment.”</p><p>“You sounded like you had fun with that experiment,” Hajime seethes, the urge to grab Komaeda by the throat scratching at the back of his mind. </p><p>Komaeda laughs. “Fun?”</p><p>He leans in, chapped lips tracing over Hajime’s ear so that he can hear the rattle of his breaths in painful detail. </p><p>“What we had was never fun. You fucked me just because you are a <em> monster</em>. I never-”</p><p>“Don’t,” Hajime interrupts suddenly, stomach rolling. “I don’t want to hear it.”</p><p>Komaeda watches him for a few moments and everyone in the cottage is holding their breath. Finally, he turns away and struggles his way back to the bed. The Impostor rises and Komaeda takes his place, sitting primly on the edge of the mattress. </p><p>“Good night,” he says and it's so unexpected, Hajime just blinks.</p><p>“G-Good night!” Mikan hurriedly replies, looking to Hajime for guidance.</p><p>He doesn't give it and the five of them walk out of Komaeda’s cottage to hover on the strip of planks. Quietly, Mahiru pushes the door shut behind them. Ibuki is peering at them through her window and Hajime can hear moans from Gundham’s lodge.</p><p>Mikan is biting her lip so hard blood is running down her chin. Fuyuhiko’s hands are wrapped around his elbows and he looks twenty years older.</p><p>“He-he’ll likely wake up as his normal post-despair self,” Mikan finally tells them and that’s all the permission Hajime needs to turn on his heel, run to the nearest beach and vomit his sakuramochi into the ocean.</p><p>He rubs a hand over his mouth. “<em>Anything </em>to say?”</p><p>Izuru is silent.</p><p> </p><p>“We thought you knew,” the Impostor says the next day, standing outside Hajime’s door with a plate of freshly buttered toast and orange juice, and Ibuki by his side. </p><p>Hajime feels himself slip into a strange sort of nothingness. “<em>You </em>knew.”</p><p>The Impostor looks away and Ibuki steps forward nervously. “Ibuki’s sorry,” she whispers and it's that, that quietness from the islands’ loudest resident, that finally makes him realise just how serious this all is. They aren’t children anymore.</p><p>Maybe they never were.</p><p> </p><p>Hajime’s feet are dragging behind him and he hears his cottage click shut. It's been three days since Komaeda had accused of Izuru of- of-</p><p>Hajime swallows.</p><p><em> Raping </em>him and it's been radio silence since. Komaeda has abandoned his cottage and Hajime has no idea where, or even if, he’s been sleeping but Teruteru has assured him that he’s seen the pale boy dipping into the food supplies so he can cross starvation off of his list of potential suicide methods that Komaeda could be employing.</p><p>Souda is reclined by the pool, sipping at some coca-cola with one arm under his head. He’s not with Fuyuhiko this time; Sonia and Gundham in the pool loungers next to him. Gundham is sweating heavily, still wrapped in his scarf (a hamster is tanning next to him, one of his original dark devas’ children if Hajime remembers correctly and it's small and orange and looks like it would die if Hajime touched it), and Sonia is shaded by a crooked pool umbrella that’s clearly been modified by Souda, painted a flamboyant pink and with a few screws sticking out at odd angles towards the top.</p><p>The three of them look… content.</p><p>Souda’s not complaining about Gundham, Sonia’s not scolding Souda and Gundham’s not waxing over causing the apocalypse. </p><p>Hajime winces. That one’s probably for the best.</p><p>“It's just like ‘The One Series with Vampires and Werewolves!” Sonia gushes, sunglasses rested over her hair. “The boy with red hair was so fun and excitable - they were perfect together!” </p><p>“Babe!” Souda exclaims. “The older vampire was obviously better for her! He was so cool - all dark and mysterious!”</p><p>Gundham takes a long sip of his own drink and meets Hajime’s gaze with a stoic nod. The hamster nestles into the crook of his elbow and Hajime sees his gaze soften.</p><p>“And they died for each other like three times! Remember when they were stargazing on that beach in season nineteen?” Souda stresses, a wide grin splitting his face. His pink hair had grown out during the simulation and now he’s left with steadily darkening roots. The same can be said for Ibuki whose hair now looks awfully lopsided as the chunkily dyed strands only cover the space between her shoulders and waist. </p><p>“That <em>was </em>rather romantic,” Sonia sighs and Hajime thinks of the noise her skin would make sliding off of her pretty face. Seeing her like this, relaxed and surrounded by people who would do anything for her, is slightly too reminiscent of her propaganda. Why are they all so happy?</p><p>Gundham sneezes and Hajime remembers how Souda sorted through Nekomaru’s corpse for spare parts, how Sonia adamantly defended him during the trial and realises that they’re all horrifically perfect for each other.</p><p> </p><p>“What was it like?” Hajime whispers two days later, alone in his cottage with shame already coursing through his veins. “What was <em> he </em> like back then?”</p><p>
  <b>You will regret this.</b>
</p><p>Hajime scoffs. “I already regret it. Show me.”</p><p>There’s a beat of blackness until an image explodes over his vision and all he can see is-</p><p><em> “Kamu- </em> ah <em> - Kamukura-kun, thank you, thank-” </em></p><p>
  <em> The hand tightens on the chain and Komaeda chokes, saliva beading over his lip. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Passively, he reaches a hand down to smear it into his skin. Komaeda giggles and Hajime feels the vibrations under the thumb that isn’t quite his. </em>
</p><p><em> “Aren’t you </em> dirty<em>, Kamukura-kun?” </em></p><p>
  <em> He digs his thumb in and Komaeda whines a little, breathy and pleased and flushed with- </em>
</p><p>“Stop!”</p><p>The memory halts and Hajime is standing in a dark room with someone’s back to his own.</p><p>
  <b>I told you so.</b>
</p><p>“No,” Hajime swallows. His face is warm and he’s slightly afraid of looking down. “It wasn’t always like that,” he hears himself say, not entirely sure what ‘that’ is supposed to be. Just them? Komaeda smiling? The <em>chain</em>? “Show me the worst.”</p><p>There’s nothing for a few seconds like Izuru is hesitating before-</p><p><em> “Ah!” Komaeda nearly shrieks, blood trickling down his thighs and onto the desk as </em>she <em>digs her nails into him. He’s smiling though, the twist of his lips jarring on his pale face. </em></p><p>
  <em> “Yes, yes,” she pouts, beaming up at Izuru. She’s always been like that, combining expressions and contrasts into a paradox of a human being. Izuru’s loathe to admit that it's the slightest bit interesting. Hajime’s eyes dart downwards and he freezes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda is lying on a corpse that’s decomposing under him with maggots inching across the scratched-up wooden desk.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hajime drifts over to the two - three? - of them, until he’s staring down at Komaeda’s bruised, bloody face. The marks are careful though, scattered over cheekbones and framing his face so that he’s still relatively easy on the eyes. He blinks up at him, eyes reddened with despair.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ‘Kamukura’ he tries to mouth but Enoshima shoves his face into the body, twisting her fake nails deeper. The stench of sagging skin reeks from Hajime’s position and he can’t imagine how it feels for Komaeda. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She laces her fingers against Komaeda’s left hand and starts to bend it back, steadily, steadily until the tendon’s snap. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hajime traces the endless scars covering the back of his hand with his eyes, countless breaks and sprains evident. Anyone else and this might have been a punishment but for all Komaeda’s ramblings about hope and his desire for Enoshima's destruction, he’s never been anything less than obedient. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She drops his newly ruined hand and his eyes twist, a single tear slipping down his bruises to the cadaver. She giggles and hooks her fingers into Komaeda’s mouth, dragging it open and across the corpse’s in a kiss. Teasingly, she unzips the body’s trousers and rubs the rotting cock along Komaeda’s hole, spreading it wide with her too-sharp fingernails. Blood drips down, steadily, steadily. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda isn't even naked, his tattered trousers tugged down to expose his ass and somehow that feels worse to Hajime.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Ne, Kamukura,” she tilts her head at him, blonde pigtails swaying to one side. She’s only sixteen. “Did you find the vault in the end?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Yes,” Izuru answers and an image of the Komaeda family safe is thrown into Hajime’s mind, like him understanding the intricacies of their conversation is the most important thing here.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda chokes and retches onto the cadaver - chunks of undigested food and splatters of blood clawing their way up his throat. He blinks down at it like he’s trying to work out where it came from. “Oh,” he finally manages. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Enoshima snarls and slams his head into the vomit, grinding it down. The body’s chest gives in slightly, soft with decomposition and any pleasure Hajime had felt before has been replaced with a deep, bone-chilling, apathy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Izuru has completely closed off, something like shame between them.  </em>
</p><p><em> Komaeda’s muttering a smiling mantra of balance and the luck that’s sure to come, vomit coating his cheeks, a desperate plea to the universe, anything in exchange for this - an inheritance, a single lottery ticket, </em> <b> <em>hope</em></b><em>. </em></p><p><em> There’s a thunk as Enoshima drops his head onto a smudged placard. He doesn’t even react. It reads ‘</em>Togami Kijo’ <em> and all it means is that Enoshima has won another round against the world.  </em></p><p>
  <em> “Leave him like that and he’ll choke to death,” Izuru says, Hajime frozen inside of him. His voice is stable, measured. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “How attentive,” Enoshima frowns. “Unless you need a cum dumpster as well as everyone else? I’d be more than happy to volunteer,” she flutters her eyelashes. “I’d bend over for you whenever and there’d be no more sloppy seconds,” she winks. “I’d worship you given the chance, ah, hope and despair finally united and hope finally conquered. I think you’d look lovely bleeding under my feet!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “His luck is invaluable,” Izuru ignores her. “It wouldn’t do to lose a useful asset, especially not when things are becoming unstable. Have you already forgotten the Future Foundation’s growing presence? Hope’s Peak will make its move soon.” </em>
</p><p><em> “But wouldn’t </em>losing <em>such an asset result in such beautiful despair?” she muses, eyes twinkling. </em></p><p>
  <em> Izuru doesn't respond. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She pulls a face and opens her mouth but Hajime is already being tugged out of the scene. </em>
</p><p>“That was the worst?” Hajime finally asks, winding his arms around himself. There are whispers from outside his cabin accompanied by the telltale sounds of Nidai’s flip flops. Hiyoko laughs before someone shushes her.</p><p>
  <b>The worst for him. He despises humiliation. Though… things like that can not be adequately judged in such vague terms. </b>
</p><p>Hajime exhales roughly. “I’m never going to let you near him again.”</p><p>There’s something like a flinch in the back of his mind and it sends a stab of pain through his head.</p><p>Then, <b>Fine.</b></p><p> </p><p>“Hey, dude!” Souda pops up from beneath a pile of scraps, grinning at him. There’s petrol on his cheek but it does nothing to distract from the red bruises on his neck. Some are ringed in the pale pink lipstick Sonia wears. “What’s up?”</p><p>“Nothing much,” Hajime answers automatically. He peers into the engine and is grateful that he can’t understand a bit of it. Izuru hasn’t infected him yet. “What are you doing?”</p><p>“I’ve got this theory,” Souda gestures to the car. “That this baby’s got enough parts to make a projector - we could have movie nights! You know, maybe a horror film, getting the chance to snuggle up to someone cute and pretend you’re scared,” he nudges Hajime with a wrench. “Anyone you got your eye on?”</p><p>“Ha.” </p><p>“Don’t brush it off!” Souda holds his hands up. “I’ve seen you chatting to Akane, maybe you prefer the athletic type… I mean Sonia’s obviously off-limits,” he brandishes his wrench threateningly. “And Peko’s basically married unless you wanna take the munchkin on, though my money would definitely be on you - reckon you’ve got like the Ultimate Judo talent? - Hiyoko’s gay as hell, Ibuki’s so <em>much </em>and Mikan cries if you look at her but Mahiru’s pretty cute! When she’s not yelling that is…”</p><p>“Have you seen Komaeda?”</p><p>Souda winces, scratching the back of his head with a wrench. “Ugh, this is the worst. He said you’d ask that…”</p><p>“And he told you to lie?” Hajime guesses, annoyance slowly rising. </p><p>“I wish dude,” Souda frowns, already back to fiddling with two wires. There are a few stray sparks and he sticks them in his mouth, using both hands to rummage through the car’s systems. Maybe Mahiru <em>was </em>onto something when she accused him of nearly blowing up the island. </p><p>“Isn’t that dangerous?”</p><p>“Eh,” Souda waves him off. “What kind of mechanic hasn’t caused a few electrical fires?”</p><p>“The good kind?” Hajime raises an eyebrow but Souda just laughs. Talented people scare the shit out of him.</p><p>“Look, I don’t know where he gets off to these days. All he said was that you’d ask, and when you did I should put some food in his cottage,” he slides onto a pallet dolly.</p><p>“You have his key?”</p><p>“He never locks his door,” Souda shrugs, rolling under the car. He rolls back out. “Don’t tell him I said that.”</p><p>Hajime shakes his head. “I’m not trying to speak to him.”</p><p>Souda’s already back under the vehicle but Hajime sees his feet tapping against the floor slow down. “Are you tryna avoid him?”</p><p>Hajime sighs and slumps down to the ground. Souda rolls out to offer him a weak smile before returning. “Apparently he was… involved with Izuru.”</p><p>Souda’s feet still. “Oh.” </p><p>Hajime hears him inhale. </p><p>“Yeah, that’s, uh. That’s gotta… rankle you? I’m spending too much time with Gundham,” he groaned. “But, yeah.”</p><p>“Do you remember what happened last year?” Hajime asks and really it's a toss-up. Akane and the Impostor have nearly entirely blocked the memories out while Mitarai still gets nightmares, even when he wasn't the one killing people. </p><p>“Parts,” Souda tries to nudge him in reassurance but ends up kicking him. “Kamukura wasn't around me much, but I wasn't that important,” he mutters. “Fuyuhiko’d know more. I do remember seeing him with Komaeda though! He was always the one who stopped me when-”</p><p>Souda shuts his mouth so quickly Hajime hears a click.</p><p>“Stopped you from what?” Hajime asks. His teeth are grinding into dust.</p><p>Slowly, Souda rolls out. He’s pale. “Uh, Hinata-”</p><p>Hajime leaves before he slams Souda’s skull in with his own wrench.</p><p>[“Shit,” Souda whispers, eyes squeezed shut. “Shit, shit, shit, shit-”]</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Wow</em>, Ibuki!” Hiyoko widens her eyes. “Your cooking’s as good as your music!”</p><p>“Aww, thanks, Hiyoko-chan!” Ibuki beams. The blonde pushes her cheeks out in annoyance but she’s the one who cornered the musician to hang out. “Pass me the bread?”</p><p>Hajime turns to help but it's already in her hands. Right, he realises. She’s tall now. Tall enough to reach things without his help. He hadn’t enjoyed her mocking and demands in the simulation but it had been nice to feel needed, even if just for his height. Now… there’s nothing.</p><p>He feels so alone as pathetic as it sounds and really he is, the others have their two years of school together - Mahiru and Teruteru laugh about their English teacher when they’re sad and sometimes Gundham and Fuyuhiko will complain about the homework they’d get. Hajime can’t help but compare what he overhears to the mountains of work the reserve course students would get, no time for extracurriculars or highschool parties, just that endless monotony of tests and grades and disappointment.</p><p>Everyone else in his class killed themselves, a mass suicide of 2357 in the prison that passed for a school.</p><p>He wants to ask if it was easier to push the reserve course into despair than the main course but he knows Izuru wouldn’t answer him.</p><p>
  <b>Correct. I would not. </b>
</p><p>Hajime rolls his eyes and leaves the restaurant. After an hour of aimless walking, he finds himself in the cinema, staring up at the blank screen like something will magically appear. He wonders what Usami would say if she saw him now. She’d probably just cry.</p><p>If he tries, he can remember Fuyuhiko’s sister: blonde hair, a cruel laugh and an unshakeable confidence in everything her big brother would achieve. He remembers Mahiru’s friend, the murderer from Twilight Syndrome Murder Case: black curls, hard work and the way she’d scoff at every photograph she saw.</p><p>He strains and remembers the boy who was late for every class, the girl who was part of a famous biker gang [They'd put up a hell of a fight during the Tragedy and their young leader only gave up when one of Souda’s bombs decimated his men the day before Hope’s Peak was set to lock down. He’d walked into the school with his shoulders turned inwards and his eyes red.].</p><p>He was always surrounded by swathes and masses of people, people that he had blended into one clump because he didn’t see them as talented. Shame is a familiar friend now and he welcomes the brush of emotion. He prefers it to the abyss in the back of his thoughts, the nothingness threatening to consume him. God, he’s drowning in his own regrets, trailing hands through thoughts, longing to make a ripple, prove he <em>was </em>something.</p><p>He opens his eyes and shudders at his own desires.</p><p>The world may be burning but there are no YouTube videos of Izuru Kamukura. He’s nothing more than an unfortunate bystander to others, unremarkable to those who don’t wear lab coats and spend more on suits than their own family.</p><p><b>Many people in Class 77-B are viewed as unremarkable</b>, Izuru joins in. He hasn’t properly spoken to Hajime in days, just the occasional comment and observation. Hajime wonders if he’s wary now, after Komaeda’s big reveal. <b>No. It was inevitable. And it doesn't concern you. You were not in control at the time.</b></p><p>And isn't <em>that </em>a weird thought. That all the time Izuru was fucking Komaeda, Hajime was just out of sight asleep in the back of his mind. </p><p>
  <b>The Impostor thrives on anonymity. Few people knew Hanumura’s true name and Owari was only used as a weapon. </b>
</p><p>Hajime lets out a shocked laugh. “Are you trying to make me <em> feel </em> better?”</p><p>Unsurprisingly, Izuru doesn't answer but he does <em>something </em>that sends a stab of pain through Hajime’s head. He grits his teeth and tries to ignore it.</p><p> </p><p>The Impostor is sitting in the library, a grainy news site open in front of him. Komaeda is sitting on the top floor in a window, one leg crossed over the other. He can’t see the book but he’s willing to bet it's a mystery novel. Hajime hasn’t seen him in eleven days and he feels Izuru stir.</p><p>
  <b>It appears your plan to separate us has failed.</b>
</p><p>He sounds far too satisfied and Hajime tries to remember why he even decided to come to the library in the first place or if he was just tricked.</p><p>“Good afternoon, Hinata,” the Impostor nods and his grey eyes are on full display. It's slow going but he’s revealing a little more of himself each day, a smile, a discarded pair of glasses and less pristine white suits. The screen is locked on a short article.</p><p>Hajime sees a fading red sky and Izuru jolts him forward. </p><p>“Towa City,” he states and the Impostor flicks him a look.</p><p>“The Monokids have been subdued but they wreaked plenty of damage beforehand. Four buildings collapsed and authorities are still picking through the rubble. 127 bodies have been discovered so far.”</p><p>Izuru doesn't say anything else so it's up to Hajime to nod and say “cool.”</p><p>The Impostor frowns. </p><p>“I mean,” Hajime closes his eyes. “Cool that it's over. The world’s kinda starting to heal.”</p><p>He cracks open his green eye and finds the Impostor smiling softly at the screen. “It is, isn’t it? People are uniting under the Future Foundation and Naegi Makoto,” his lips twitch upwards. “I’m sure Togami Byakuya is also playing a vital role.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Hajime lets out a weak laugh. There’s a pulse in the back of his mind almost begging him to look up. </p><p>There’s the patter of footsteps and he doesn't have to; Komaeda is examining a shelf mere metres away from him, a book dangling from one hand. <em> War and Peace. </em> Hajime blinks. </p><p>Izuru jerks forward and Hajime grabs a chair to steady himself. “No,” he mutters, hand tightening and rooting him to the spot. Izuru seems to disagree and the pulsing is getting stronger like he can wrench control back by force alone. Hajime’s head feels like it's splitting. It's honestly a rather apt comparison.</p><p>“Hinata?” the Impostor asks and the question draws Komaeda’s attention. Hajime watches him turn like he’s in slow motion, white tresses floating around to reveal a pair of intelligent grey-green eyes.</p><p>“Yeah,” he swallows. He doesn't even try to look away this time. There’s a rip and one of his knuckles has split open with how hard he’s gripping the chair. </p><p>Komaeda’s gaze meanders downwards, carving lines in the landscape of Hajime’s body, before settling on the blood now trailing down his hand. His lip twitches.</p><p>“That looks painful, Hinata-kun,” he says and it's the first time Hajime has heard his voice, <em> his </em>voice, not the despair’s, not an awful memory’s, in what feels like years. </p><p>“Perhaps you should visit Tsumiki,” the Impostor wisely steps in but Izuru has his eyes trained on Komaeda’s.</p><p>“He won’t,” Komaeda declares and breezes past, a new book in his grasp. <em> Dante’s Inferno. </em></p><p>Hajime forces his gaze to stay where Komaeda had been, staring at the shelves.</p><p>“Oh, and Hinata-kun?”</p><p>Izuru turns so quickly his neck cracks. It's tinged with annoyance that Komaeda is addressing Hajime and not him. Komaeda is smiling sweetly, bathed in sunlight and silhouetted in the library’s entrance.</p><p>“Can you stop staring at me? It feels like leeches are crawling over my skin.”</p><p> </p><p>“Show me another,” Hajime commands the next evening. This can be his repentance, he’s decided. His own form of flagellation.</p><p><b>Of course,</b> Izuru says and Hajime has a moment to wonder if this is his revenge for keeping him from Komaeda but then-</p><p>
  <em> “Eat, eat, eat, eat!” one of the kids chants. They’ve got red hair and blue eyes and must be younger than ten years old. There’s a bowl on the floor, full of intestines and blood, and a chain around Komaeda’s neck. A green-haired girl is holding the end, eyes glued on him like this will tell her something. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda obeys, and the circle of kids squeal in disgust. There are bruises in the shape of a bear over his shoulder and bandages around his ankle. The green-haired girl just watches him. </em>
</p><p><strong> Towa Monaca, </strong>Izuru murmurs. <strong>Enoshima's supposed successor. </strong></p><p>“We’re in Towa City,” Hajime murmurs back and Izuru doesn’t disagree with him.</p><p>
  <em> “What do you think?” Monaca asks and Izuru doesn't respond, standing alone in a corner. It's unclear if Komaeda even knows he’s there or if he’s too deep in his own head. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Move, brats!” a low voice yells and the door bangs open. Fuyuhiko walks in, yawning, and Peko is by his side. “Who the fuck cocked up my shipment plans?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> There’s a ripple of fear and a pink-haired girl steps forward, trembling. “I’m sorry, big br-” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Her head snaps to the side and the butt of Peko’s sword has left a red mark up her face. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Oh for fucks sake,” Fuyuhiko rolls his eyes, storming through the kids to pull Komaeda up by the collar. The chain rattles through Monaca’s hand and she lets it go. “What are you playing at?”  </em>
</p><p>Humiliation, Hajime remembers. This must be hell for him.</p><p>
  <em> “Ah, Kuzuryuu-kun, you-” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fuyuhiko slams his fist into his gut and Komaeda vomits up the remains of an intestine. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> There’s another round of squeals. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You were due in Prague four days ago and I come here to find you pissing around with shitty little children? Waiting to get one alone and get your dick wet?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda drops with a thump and Peko hands Fuyuhiko a handkerchief so he can wipe off his hand. He shakes his head, turns and stills. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Kamukura.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hajime’s vision tilts as Izuru acknowledges them with a slight nod.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You in charge of this waste?” Fuyuhiko jerks his thumb at where Komaeda is now kneeling calmly on the bloodstained floor. There’s a faint smile playing over his lips. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No,” Izuru answers shortly and Hajime can sense the lack of patience in his voice because it's the same tone he uses. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Good,” Fuyuhiko smirks, kicking Komaeda in the side and stamping over his ribs. “Let's see, a bone for each day you wasted?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He snaps his fingers and Peko steps forward. One by one, she snaps the fingers of his left hand. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hajime might be overthinking things but he can’t help but assume that, thanks to Komaeda’s repeated broken wrists, the nerves in his left hand would be significantly numbed; Fuyuhiko could have inflicted the same amount of pain by breaking just one of his right fingers.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Trash?” Hiyoko shrieks in the doorway and Nidai is behind her, followed by Mahiru and Akane. “You ungrateful garbage, you ruined what was supposed to be my big show!” She’s naked from the waist up, kimono pooled around her hips and there are bite marks down her chest. “This all happened because you weren’t there!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It messed up my pictures,” Mahiru muses, voice dark, and Nidai smirks. “He can join Sonia a little later, right?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Nidai cracks his knuckles. Fuyuhiko scoffs and leaves, Peko following behind.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Izuru stays, Hajime can sense it- </em>
</p><p>But the memory is already gone.</p><p>“Did Souda join them too?” Hajime mutters.</p><p>
  <b>He was in Prague, with Sonia.</b>
</p><p>“Why wasn’t he?”</p><p>Izuru doesn't need to ask who he’s referring to. <b>One of the children had been caught with a beer bottle in a riot and he brought them back. Then the boat to Prague got sunk by Future Foundation employees. Then he twisted his ankle.</b></p><p>“A string of bad luck,” Hajime chews on his lip. Izuru hums. “Did this happen to Akane or Mahiru?” he asks, thinking of Souda’s suggestions and wondering why his fascination seemed to begin and end with Komaeda. If it's just guilt, he could apologise and be done with it. He doesn’t feel like he’ll ever be done with Komaeda.</p><p><b>What do you think?</b> Izuru hisses and Hajime snarls, rolling to the side. <b>Mahiru was practically useless, it doesn't matter how angled a corpse is, how much exposure brightens a rape; the subject is the same.</b></p><p>He’s spitting his words, privately seething and it's an extremely off-putting feeling to have a swirl of emotions that aren’t his own in his mind, bubbling against his thoughts. The divide that separates them is fraying with every collision. </p><p><b>Akane hurt people, she broke into banks, she broke the necks of politicians; she was </b> <b> <em>replaceable</em></b> <b>. </b></p><p>“And Komaeda?” Hajime finally says.</p><p><b>He was more powerful than Enoshima.</b> Izuru says it like it's a fact. Maybe it is. <b>She couldn’t kill him, his luck was too fickle to allow for an easy death. And that made him </b><b><em>fun </em></b><b>to her.</b></p><p>“Funner than you?”</p><p>Between the anger and bitterness, there’s a flash of regret and it ricochets through Hajime’s brain.</p><p>
  <b>Yes.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It's a quiet morning when Akane says “How did we not figure out it was a simulation?”</p><p>“I thought it was quite realistic!” Nidai’s laugh booms through the restaurant and they all erupt into disbelief. </p><p>“You turned into a <em> robot </em>-”</p><p>“The blood was pink!”</p><p>“Did you not notice the literal glitches?” Fuyuhiko exclaims. “When we started clipping through the floors?”</p><p>“I was dead by then!” Nidai grins at him, oblivious to his distress.</p><p>Mitarai laughs nervously. Next to him, the Impostor takes another sip of his tea, another truth - he despises coffee and Togami’s penchant for it.</p><p>Hajime has his cheek pressed into his hand, flicking at his spoon and watching it wobble. He’s supposed to call Naegi tonight with Fuyuhiko and he can’t wait to update him on all the nothingness that has occurred while Naegi gushes over all the progress he’s making. The spoon stills. </p><p>“Does anyone else remember the monocoins?” Souda asks and Ibuki gasps in recognition.</p><p>He imagines taking the spoon and jamming it into Fuyuhiko’s remaining eye, imagines him crawling helplessly over the floor, imagines breaking four of his fingers. </p><p>“Th-that reminds me!” Mikan says and Hajime blinks, wondering if he’d spoken out loud. “Ko-Komaeda-san, I saw this and thought of you!” she holds out a small pink shell.</p><p>Komaeda stares blankly at the object. “Ah. Thank you.”</p><p>He doesn't move to take it and discomfort is starting to snake through the atmosphere.</p><p>“So-Souda-san told me you liked pretty things! So I thought that-”</p><p>Komaeda’s chair screeches backwards as he rises and she falls quiet.</p><p>They all watch him leave. Souda’s face is buried in his hands and Gundham is whispering into his ear, his hamster nudging Souda affectionately. “Don’t worry.” Hajime hears. “You told her not to - it is her own folly.”</p><p>Hajime wonders what else Souda knows about Komaeda. What other information he’d managed to dredge out of him in the past few years. Once again, Hajime’s reminded that they’re all classmates and he’s the odd one out. Despite everything, some things still catch him off-guard. Teruteru is allergic to soy sauce. Mahiru and Nidai are sleeping together. Komaeda likes pretty things.</p><p>“Does anyone want to come to the beach with me?” Sonia disrupts the quiet.</p><p>“Cake by the ocean perhaps?” Teruteru waggles his eyebrows and Hiyoko elbows him, face scrunched up in disgust.</p><p>There’s a cluster of agreements and as Hajime watches, the plans are put in place to change and meet on the central island in thirty minutes; Mahiru will bring a cooler of drinks, Akane will grab the towels and Nidai will grab some beach balls so they can play volleyball. Hajime hopes that Mahiru freezes to death, he hopes Akane gets strangled in the thread, he hopes that Nidai will trip over his own feet and slam his head into the concrete, end up paralysed and useless, and above everything else, he hopes that one day he’ll actually feel bad for wanting his friends to die.</p><p>They leave and Hajime is left in the restaurant with Mikan still quietly sniffling in her seat. She was moved down, he remembers. She had been in 77-A until an incident with the Ultimate Model left the other girl with a row of fourteen stitches down her left bicep. It made Hajime wonder just how hard Enoshima really had to try to get them to do the things they’d done.</p><p>“Ah, Hinata-san,” she looks up and she’s awfully unattractive with her nose running and her face splotched with red. </p><p>When Komaeda cries, it’s silent and controlled. He doesn't get worked up over things like this.</p><p>“Have a nice day,” Hajime says and returns to his cottage. </p><p> </p><p>As predicted, the meeting is boring and repetitive and Fuyuhiko and Togami both lose their tempers eight minutes in. The only real notable aspect is Naegi’s thoughtful expression when he notices Hajime’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>“This is unlucky for you,” Hajime tries.</p><p>“We’re stranded, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda replies dryly. “This is unlucky for both of us.”</p><p>A bird caws.</p><p>The two of them are huddled into a small cave behind the tourist attraction on the fourth island and, naturally, Hajime is only in his swim trunks, striped and green. The tide had risen thirty minutes earlier than expected meaning that Hajime’s clothes had been swept away by the waves along with any means of escape. Komaeda had picked the beach to read on by pure chance and by the time the two had noticed each other, it was too late for either to leave. The beach is covered with water and ensures an hour-long swim back to dry land: something Hajime doesn't want to risk after only just finishing one of his rare morning swims (Izuru gives him migraines if he doesn’t even try to maintain his exercise) and something he privately doubts Komaeda would <em>ever </em>be capable of, even without his various ailments and maladies. They’re staring out at the sea, a two-metre drop between them and the now flooded ground.</p><p>“What are you reading?”</p><p>Komaeda scowls and winds his arms tighter around himself, shielding the book from view. “Doesn’t <em> Kamukura-kun </em> have something better to say than that?”</p><p>Hajime clenches his teeth and reminds himself that there are no longer any rewards for killing people.</p><p>“You’re thinking about the killing game,” Komaeda says and Hajime stills.</p><p>“No, I’m not.”</p><p>Komaeda hums. “I admit you had an advantage in the trials, people seemed to trust you and you could use that to swing their votes in someone else’s favour-” he cuts himself off with an excited gasp and suddenly their noses are nearly brushing and all Hajime can see is Komaeda’s sparkling eyes. “Maybe you could frame me!”</p><p>“I wouldn’t have killed anyone!” He’s slightly surprised at his own conviction. He’s slightly less surprised that all he needed to do to have a proper conversation with Komaeda was mention murder.</p><p>“No survival instinct,” Komaeda sighs. “It doesn’t bear thinking about what would have happened to you during the Tragedy but I imagine you would have been slaughtered for meat.”</p><p>“I don’t need to defend myself to you,” Hajime hisses.</p><p>“That could be a compliment or an insult!” Komaeda says brightly.</p><p>“It's an insult.” </p><p>There’s a strong wave and saltwater sprays up over them. Komaeda jerks backwards and his jacket slips. <em> Pride and Prejudice. </em></p><p>The water clears and Komaeda wrinkles his nose. If Hajime dangles his leg out of the cave, the ocean laps at his knees. When Komaeda rests against the other side of the cave mouth, there are maybe twenty centimetres between them at a push.</p><p>The sun is setting and they would have a perfect view if they were on the other side of the island but as it is, they’re left to watch the sky gradually darken, pinkened streaks disappearing. Stars are starting to twinkle, silver pinpricks of needles across the velvet of the sky.</p><p>Hajime wonders if Komaeda knows any of their names. Then he remembers Souda and Sonia’s discussion about romance shows and stargazing on beaches and swiftly blanches.</p><p>He sneaks a glance at the other boy and sees him gazing out across the sea. Hajime finds himself irrationally annoyed that they’re shielded from the sun and as a result, he can’t see the flecks of colour the tropical sunset would have brought out in his eyes. He would bet hundreds of monocoins that they highlight the silver and make the green gleam like palm fronds waving through a tropical storm.</p><p>“Leeches!” Komaeda reminds him cheerfully.</p><p>Izuru’s stare doesn’t waver.</p><p>“Hinata-kun-” Komaeda turns, annoyed, before falling still. The waves are rocking back and forth and, every so often, one will send a shower of droplets over them. “Good evening, Kamukura-kun.”</p><p>“Good evening, Nagito,” Izuru responds and Hajime suddenly feels like he really, really shouldn’t be here.</p><p>Komaeda is silent and his eyelashes are resting over his cheekbones. His hair rustles around his face with a breeze and his pale lips are chapped and parted around a word Hajime isn’t listening to. Komaeda isn’t attractive per se but in this moment, he’s <em>mesmerising</em>.</p><p>“I’ve missed you,” Komaeda smiles softly. Hajime is looking at a cherry blossom tree in full bloom before the wind will inevitably sweep the branches bare. “I didn’t think I would.”</p><p>“A shared sentiment,” Izuru murmurs and Komaeda’s smile crumples. </p><p>Hajime jolts back into control. </p><p>“I thought you hated him.”</p><p>Komaeda turns back to the ocean, cherry blossoms gone. “Whatever gave you that idea, Hinata-kun?”</p><p>“You <em> said- </em>”</p><p>“What did I say?”</p><p>“Do you get off on lying to me?” Hajime snaps.</p><p>“Shouldn’t you be asking Kamukura-kun what I get off on?” Komaeda asks coolly.</p><p>Hajime’s fist jerks and Komaeda’s eyes lock onto the motion with a strange sort of fascination. “You said it wasn’t <em>fun</em>.”</p><p>Komaeda’s lip twitches but Hajime can’t tell if it was a smile or a sneer. “Breathing isn’t particularly fun.”</p><p>Komaeda's hands are shaking so badly that his book is flapping back and forth and Hajime makes a mental note to double-check his dosages with Mikan. </p><p>“Hey-”</p><p>Komaeda bats his hand away with an exaggerated smile. “Did you ever consider applying as the Ultimate <em> Annoyance</em>, Hinata-kun? I can’t imagine anyone more suited to the role than you!”</p><p>“Whatever,” Hajime mutters. He has no watch and no food and decent company of below zero if he counts Izuru.</p><p>
  <b>The tide will take another hour and 49 minutes to uncover a safe path back to the cottages.</b>
</p><p>“Ultimate Oceanographer,” Hajime mutters out of habit. “It’ll take another 2 hours,” he says to Komaeda and the pale boy sighs like he’d been expecting as much.</p><p>“Hm, well.”</p><p>Something thuds onto his shoulder and Izuru suppresses Hajime’s flinch. Slowly, he turns their head.</p><p>“While you’re here Hinata-kun, I suppose you’ll do. It's likely the only thing a reserve course student like you will ever be good for…” his words taper off into quiet breaths, head rested on Hajime’s shoulder. The tips of his ivory hair are brushing Hajime’s tanned skin and every time his chest falls, his body falls a little further into Hajime’s.</p><p>Hajime swallows.</p><p>Izuru lifts a hand and tucks one of Komaeda’s tresses behind his ear. The other boy wrinkles his nose slightly but doesn’t respond.</p><p>“Good night,” Izuru says and Hajime hopes that this time it's a promise. Komaeda waking up tainted with despair and trying to kill him would almost definitely ruin this. Then he realises he thought <em> ‘almost </em>definitely’ and decides that he needs a Komaeda-detox.</p><p>
  <b>Sleep, Hajime.</b>
</p><p>He closes his eyes and lets his head fall onto Komaeda’s.</p><p>[Komaeda cracks an eye open, glances upwards, and smiles.]</p><p> </p><p>“I failed my family!” Fuyuhiko curses, heaving another deck chair into the pool. They aren’t heavy but his shoulders are shaking.</p><p>“Fuyuhiko,” Hajime tries but the blonde is consumed in memories, breathing ragged.</p><p>The next chair sends a shower of water droplets spraying over their cheeks and Hajime is filled with the need to scrub at his face to make sure it's not blood. The stars are sneering down at him and he can’t help but think that his sleeping routine would be a lot better if people stopped having their mental breakdowns at night.</p><p>“They’re dead, everyone’s dead, I’m dead-” he snaps his mouth shut with a snarl but he’s already said too much.</p><p>“Fuyuhiko,” Hajime repeats. The blonde’s posture tightens but he hasn’t tried to shove <em> Hajime </em>into the pool which he takes as a good sign. “The night’s gonna keep coming, over and over. But the sun always rises in return. You need to trust in that.”</p><p>“What kinda middle school poetry bullshit is that?” Fuyuhiko scoffs. </p><p>Hajime watches him toe off what would be expensive leather shoes if they weren’t creased and discoloured from the sun. </p><p>Abruptly, he jumps into the pool, gasping as the cold hits him. “Your metaphor’s pretty shit. The day and night repeat constantly and evenly - what happened to hope beating out despair?” He strides awkwardly to the side, weighed down by his clothes. He crosses his arms over the pool’s ledge and glares up at him. “Get in here, bastard.”</p><p>Hajime’s eyes widen but-</p><p>“Shit!”</p><p>Fuyuhiko yanks his ankle forward and he slips into the cold. </p><p>It hits him like a punch: invisible before feeling explodes through his body.</p><p>“What was that for?” he whirls to the yakuza, spitting up water, and Fuyuhiko smirks. </p><p>“You’re too damn self-righteous, looking down at me like that.”</p><p>“I’m not self-righteous! And I always look down on you technically,” Hajime mutters, trying to struggle out of his shirt and avoid it getting wetter. He never did find the clothes that got swept away a few days ago.</p><p>“Stop,” Fuyuhiko commands and Hajime freezes. “Don’t make things easier for yourself.”</p><p>Hajime loosens his hands and his shirt drops into the pool with a wet slap, floating around his chest.</p><p>The night is silent, everyone asleep [Everyone bar Komaeda, staring at the ceiling of the library. His pills mess with his sleep cycle but he doesn’t want to interact with any of his classmates any more than he has to, so he’ll just have to deal with it.]. A bush rustles as a lizard scampers across the stones and Hajime wonders why the quietness of the simulation never caught his attention, only the quiet swish of waves and brushes of wind [the noises repeated on a forty-eight minute loop, marked by the call of a Kermadec petrel].</p><p>“Is that what you do? Make things hard?”</p><p>“It's what I should,” Fuyuhiko acknowledges. “Face things head-on, nothing hidden, and then fucking deal with it. Because you know you’ll win.”</p><p>Hajime moves his arms languidly, stirring the water. He can’t help but feel smug that Izuru would never be able to comfort his classmates like this.</p><p><b>They are not your classmates</b>, Izuru reminds him. Hajime ignores him. </p><p>“Do you and Peko talk about the killing game?”</p><p>Fuyuhiko’s eyes narrow. “What’re you implying, bastard?”</p><p>“Nothing!” Hajime jerks his hands up in surrender. “You two just spend a lot of time together.”</p><p>Fuyuhiko sighs. “Yeah. We got the offer for Hope’s Peak on the same day and I thought it was fate.” He snorts. “Found out my uncle rigged it two weeks later and sulked for like a month.”</p><p>Hajime stills. “<em>Rigged</em> it?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Fuyuhiko shrugs like they’re talking about a cricket game. “The Ultimate Recruiter owed him one from a few decades back and he pulled it to get me and Peko a place.”</p><p>Hajime is speechless.</p><p>He imagines Peko in Mahiru’s place, repenting in her own way, and in his mind, there’s torture before the death, there are the bruises of broken bones up and down her legs and there’s screaming from Fuyuhiko as the body is discovered. Revenge for Peko for Satou for Natsumi means that Mahiru is strangled to death before Monokuma can call Punishment Time and Fuyuhiko is gunned down by fake policemen with Peko’s corpse like Bonnie and Clyde.</p><p>“Right.” </p><p>Fuyuhiko hums, oblivious to the earthquake that has just slammed into Hajime’s foundations. “Anyway, killing game’s over. Thanks for that, by the way,” he knocks his shoulder with a soaking fist and Hajime stumbles a little, still shocked. “You got us out of that hellhole.”</p><p>“I put you <em>into </em>that hellhole,” Izuru reminds him but Fuyuhiko doesn’t notice the sudden monotone, just shoves his head away. </p><p>“Throw some deck chairs and cope with it,” Fuyuhiko leans against the edge with one elbow, peering up at the sky. The water would cover his head if he was standing properly but he’s steadily treading water, staying afloat. </p><p>“It's not that simple,” Izuru says. Fuyuhiko groans.</p><p>“You’re not letting it be that simple. Fuck hope, fuck your night and day metaphors and <em>do </em>something. Progress is progress. You’re always gonna be the first step and if you aren’t there for yourself, who will be?”</p><p>Peko, Hajime wants to say. The Impostor. Souda. Hell, <em> Komaeda </em>would help if Fuyuhiko asked. Fuyuhiko’s not alone and he never will be.</p><p>“And don’t fuck it up,” Fuyuhiko nods at him, pushing himself out of the pool. “That part’s pretty important too.”</p><p>He picks up his shoes and pads down to Peko’s cottage. He doesn't even knock, just walks in and Hajime sees her rush to help him out of his dripping clothes.</p><p>They’re all such liars, lying to themselves and each other. They’re all such awful people and they all deserve to-</p><p>“Don’t you look self-righteous, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda muses as he walks past with his jacket draped over his arm.</p><p>“Good night,” Izuru answers and Komaeda throws him an unimpressed look.</p><p>Hajime sinks further into the pool, cheeks burning.</p><p> </p><p>“Another,” Hajime says and it's so brief, just another part of his nightly routine. </p><p>
  <em> Izuru ducks into the makeshift laboratory, a tattered curtain wafting in the breeze and Mikan raises her head to flush and shudder at the sight of him. She’s kneeled over a small child that has Akane’s eyes and he would be screaming if his vocal cords hadn’t been slit with a chainsaw. In the corner, Sonia’s mother is tied to a chair with her eyes forced open, watching her husband be violated by Gundham. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Souda is criticising his technique and as Izuru walks past, Gundham drops the king uncaringly and slams his lips against the other boy, the mechanic moaning, long and loud as Gundham winds his arms around his hips. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Your stamina better have improved,” he grins and the breeder responds by bending him over one of Mikan’s operating tables. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda’s passed out, twitching on the dirty floor with one ankle ringed in vivid purple and yellow bruises and a hammer conspicuously laid nearby. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Izuru exhales, slow and controlled. “Tsumiki.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The nurse scrambles over to him, flush rising. “Kamukura-san, Kamukura-sama, what-” </em>
</p><p>Hajime wakes up. </p><p>It catches him off-guard when he sees these scenes, just how normal they are when you ignore their actions. He’d expected lifeless husks, nothing more than slaves for Enoshima to use but Souda still jokes around, Peko still protects Fuyuhiko and Komaeda is still <em> Komaeda</em>. The only difference seems to be the corpses constantly surrounding them.</p><p><b>Komaeda always seems to be Komaeda</b>, Izuru says. <b>He is a universal constant in that way.</b></p><p>“And is that predictable or not?” Hajime rolls his shoulder back, ready to get to bed.</p><p><b>Sometimes</b>.</p><p>“Pretty vague for the Ultimate Analyst,” Hajime mocks under his breath. There’s a thud in his brain like someone’s knocked him out and suddenly he’s asleep. </p><p>
  <strike> He sees snatches of a glossed over memory, he brushes his lips against Komaeda’s temple and later, Komaeda returns the favour, tracing the laceration across Izuru’s forehead with his tongue. </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>Hajime has never been to a hamster funeral before (or at least none that he remembers, though he doubts that Izuru would tell him if they were somehow united in this experience) but he feels he can safely say that they aren’t usually this emotional. Even Teruteru is fighting back tears and he’d threatened to cook the animal four months ago when supplies were running low. </p><p>Gundham hasn’t said anything at all but Sonia’s arms are around his waist and Souda’s head is on his shoulder. This time it's his turn to whisper reassurances in his ear. They’ll recover. People like them always do.</p><p>Even now, Fuyuhiko and Peko are together, wearing black and offering comfort in their calmness. </p><p>His eyes find Komaeda, standing on the outskirts staring at the small coffin. Hajime wonders if he’s thinking of the children in Towa City. They weren’t buried bar the rubble, weren’t mourned bar the curses and weren’t cried over bar the lamentings of wasted potential. That’s all people ever really seem to care about.</p><p>“You look sad, Hinata-san,” Mitarai tells him, eyebrows creased in worry. “Do you want me to get you some food?”</p><p>Ah, yes, because this particular hamster funeral is fully catered. Akane is sadly chewing her way through a tofu kebab and Hajime is at least 70% sure it's because of the (tasteful) lack of meat, not the death.</p><p>Komaeda walks past him to murmur something to Hiyoko and the other girl pulls a face but nods. </p><p>Komaeda smiles and Hajime thinks about how he watched Gundham in the fourth trial, his eyes steadily tracing his every movement and comment; he was always eager to point out useful topics no matter how little trust they had in him. Hajime thinks of how in the second trial Komaeda only looked at the crime scene for three minutes yet understood more than Hiyoko when she was there during the actual crime.</p><p>Nidai and the Impostor start to lower the small coffin into the ground with sombre faces. Gundham starts to bury it and it only takes three shovels of dirt to cover the hole.</p><p>“Here,” Mitarai says and he’s holding a plate of sakuramochi. Hajime sighs.</p><p>Gundham finally lets a low sob out and the others cluster around him with affection and hugs. Their shuffling unveils the grave marker to Hajime but the sun is gleaming off of the words.</p><p>He didn’t even know its name.</p><p> </p><p>Hajime is 6 months away from being 20 years old. It is the 1st of July and he is walking around the third island in endless loops, trying to work out if he’s happy or not. His head is hurting again.</p><p>“Good morning, Hinata!” Mahiru waves, t-shirt loose over her bikini. She swims every morning from 6 to 6:45 and it's such a strange thing to know but every time he sees her trailing water back to her cabin, he smiles.</p><p>“Good morning, Koizumi,” he nods and she gives him a rare smile, dripping her way down the road. She’s unbelievably confident here, she doesn’t even blink at the music venue but Hajime supposes that since she was, for all intents and purposes, dead, that’s reasonable. Hajime, on the other hand, avoids the warehouse by the factory like the plague (by which he means ineffectively).</p><p>It feels like only last week he was making his mother coffee and watching her leave without a second glance, like a day since he’d run into the Ultimate Librarian in Osaka as a child and he’d realised what he wanted to spend the rest of his life being, like an hour since he’d tossed his head back across a breezy campus and met a short girl with pink hair and a defensive kind of hope.</p><p>He should be in university and meeting new cute girls, going to cafes for lunches and studying in the evenings, he shouldn’t be stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere with a selection of murderers and terrorists because of some kid who happened to beat Enoshima at a game Hajime could have won with his eyes closed.</p><p>Such a disappointing failure. Such despair. </p><p>Hajime realises with a jolt that he has no idea if his parents are still alive or not.</p><p><b>They’re not</b>, Izuru informs him.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>He’s not that choked up.</p><p> </p><p>They’re sorting through the newest supply crates the next day and Souda is absent-mindedly fiddling with some old screws and wires on the other side of the room. Most of Jabberwock Island is a mess but there is still lingering evidence of the research team that created the Neo World program - makeshift bunks in Sea King Industries and extension cords scattered through the hotel site. They’re in the restaurant and Hajime can see one in the corner, coated in dust.</p><p>“All I’m saying is that you cheated - it's as simple as that!” Akane holds her hands up and Teruteru shakes a pillow at her threateningly. </p><p>“Watch your words woman, how could I have cheated when we said street rules?”</p><p>“Street rules ain’t hitting the ball off the court and having it count!” </p><p>The two of them devolve into the semantics of beach volleyball and Hajime suppresses a sigh. They aren’t children anymore but most of them certainly act like it. He leans down to slot an empty container under the table. He’s done three and the only person close to him is Mitarai, who’s now finished one and is struggling to pick up another. Komaeda and Peko are the only ones missing.</p><p>Hajime cracks a lid open and blinks. There, tucked between a tube of curry paste and new engine oil, is a bottle of brown hair dye.</p><p>His hands are trembling slightly but he picks it up. There’s a purple post-it note attached with a lopsided smiley face.</p><p>“Oo, what’s that?” Ibuki jumps onto him, peering at the bottle. “Aww, is that for you? Ibuki kinda liked the goth look!” she ruffles his hair and Hajime bats her hands away, still staring down at the smiley face. The eyes are incomplete circles and the mouth is far too big, curving up past the eyes to brush the edges of the paper.</p><p>“If you need help, yell,” Souda raises a hand with a wink and Hajime nods at him.</p><p>“Or you could ask your resident fanboy,” Fuyuhiko throws out, elbow deep in a box of tuna cans.</p><p>“Oh, I could be Hinata’s biggest fanboy,” Teruteru waggles his eyebrows. “Imagine the delicacies that could come from our union - I’m picturing it now, the perfect crème-brûlée!”</p><p>“You’re not Hinata’s type,” the Impostor shakes his head and there’s a vague chorus of assent.</p><p>“I've got a type?” Hajime blinks.</p><p>“You’ve got something.”</p><p>“Brain damage,” Hiyoko sneers from the other side of the table.</p><p>Souda’s chair crashes backwards.</p><p>He’s panting, hyperventilating, wide eyes fixed on the mass of metal on the table. </p><p>“Kazuichi?” Sonia murmurs, raising a hand.</p><p>He scrambles away from her. “I didn’t mean to, I wasn't, I didn’t-”</p><p>He turns and <em>runs</em>.</p><p>Hajime makes his way to the scraps and can’t quite stop his shiver. One red eye glints up at him. The bear’s grin is hellish.</p><p>Wordlessly, Gundham rises and sweeps the nightmare into a bin.</p><p> </p><p>“Could I get some ibuprofen?”</p><p>“Hinata-san!” Mikan exclaims, slipping off her stool and crashing into the pharmacy shelves, boxes and expired medicines showering to the floor in a rainbow of white and black. “Of course!” she scrambles up, straightening her skirt and rushing to the end of the aisle, muttering brand names under her breath until she dissolves into unintelligibility.</p><p>She’s trembling slightly and is clearly flustered.</p><p>It's like she’s <em>afraid </em>of him.</p><p>
  <b>It's not you.</b>
</p><p>“Why?” Hajime whispers and Mikan glances at him over her shoulder before going back to sorting through the shelves.</p><p>
  <b>She was rude to Nagito.</b>
</p><p>Hajime scoffs and rolls his eyes, an automatic response to something so ridiculous. “They were all rude to ‘Nagito’. Hell, they were all rude to each other.”</p><p>Izuru doesn't respond and Hajime is starting to get nervous.</p><p>“Was she… was she like Enoshima?”</p><p>There’s a beat before: <b>No. She was worse. Enoshima was wildly unpredictable - she could treat him to a five-star meal just as easily as she could slit one of his femoral arteries just to see the blood bubble.</b></p><p>Hajime watches the nurse squint down at warnings on an outdated box. “And Mikan?”</p><p>
  <b>Once she made him eat pig excrement to get clean bandages for the bones she broke. She said it was all he deserved.</b>
</p><p>Whatever Hajime had been expecting, had braced himself for, it wasn’t that. “Oh.”</p><p>“Did you say something Hinata-san?” Mikan blinks, pills outstretched towards him. Her knees are still knocking together. “You shouldn’t have more than 3 doses of 2 a day and always with water and six hours between them, but you probably knew all of that, Kamukura-san <em> is </em>the Ultimate Pharmacist-”</p><p>“And the Ultimate Surgeon, Ultimate Anaesthesist, Ultimate General Practitioner,” Izuru drones, because he can.</p><p>Mikan squeaks.</p><p>Hajime takes the pills and leaves. Suddenly, he thinks of Mikan’s chopsticks and Komaeda’s irregularly regular inhales and wants to shake himself. </p><p>Outside with the sun beating down on him, he can pretend that he hasn’t just completely lost faith in another of his supposed friends.</p><p> </p><p>It's five nights later when, unbidden, Hajime falls into a memory.</p><p>
  <em> He dreams of sitting next to Komaeda on a chaise lounge in Buckingham Palace in England as a flickering screen shows a live feed of 78-A’s Killing Game. The door is blocked with a wardrobe because the world is a dangerous place and Izuru isn't willing to risk the possibility, however slight it may be, that he won’t be able to protect the two of them in a fight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda is clutching a velvet pillow and gasping at every twist and reveal. There are only nine left now, not that the students are quite aware of that final person yet, and the Ultimate Gambler is twitching behind her podium, lies starting to crumble around her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Through it all, Komaeda watches the other Ultimate Lucky Student, Naegi Makoto. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His ankle is wrapped in pristine bandages and Hajime is starting to feel sick. There’s a discarded box of plasters on the chaise lounge and Komaeda’s wrist is bleeding sluggishly; he’s too consumed by the show to notice. </em>
</p><p><em> “Why do you let them do this to you?” Izuru asks and Hajime can feel his annoyance, can feel the annoyance </em>at <em>the annoyance and he understands.  </em></p><p>
  <em> Komaeda shrugs, smiling at the screen. Another lie is exposed and the students are starting to work together, pool ideas and discover the truth. “This despair will blossom into hope, I know it will. I hope you’re here when it does.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hajime can’t tell if that’s a genuine statement or a threat but neither would surprise him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Izuru picks up another pillow and turns Komaeda’s wrist over. The pale boy doesn't even look at him and Hajime entertains the idea that his left nerve-endings are so frayed he honestly can’t feel the touch. His theory is disproved when Komaeda’s breath catches as Izuru trails his fingers over the veins. His skin is nearly translucent, the purple visible in unnatural detail. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “As expected of the Ultimate Ultimate, I suppose,” Komaeda murmurs and he grants Izuru a glance, eyes lit up with something Hajime can’t quite decipher. He wonders if Izuru will tell him what it is. The pain from his mind is a resounding no. “So many people are dead.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Would you call that good luck or bad?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Good,” Komaeda answers without hesitation. “The people being culled are talentless and weak. Greenhouse gas emissions are decreasing as businesses are shutting down and people in poverty are rising up to flourish.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His eyes flutter closed with a smile. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “The world is finally full of hope.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “And all it took was a global massacre.” </em>
</p><p><em> His smile widens. “What do </em> you <em> think, Kamukura-kun?” </em></p><p>
  <em> Izuru doesn't answer and Komaeda drapes himself over his lap in a surprisingly graceful movement. He winds thin arms around Izuru’s shoulder and leans in to whisper: “You’re thinking about me again.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We are currently partaking in a conversation,” Izuru intones. “You are the most dynamic object in my current eyeline.” </em>
</p><p><em> Komaeda pulls back and gazes into his eyes, assessing and critical. “You’re thinking about </em> us<em>.” </em></p><p>
  <em> He grinds his hips down and Hajime gasps, the feelings slightly suppressed as he finds himself taking a backseat to Izuru’s influence. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Monokuma’s laugh flickers through the tinny speakers and Komaeda says the words along with the bear, muffled by Izuru’s thick hair but just loud enough that Hajime can hear them. </em>
</p><p><em> “Punishment Time,” Komaeda says and kisses him until it feels like </em>he’s <em>the one burning up. </em></p><p>Hajime opens his eyes to a blank grey ceiling, alone in his cottage. “Why did you show me that?”</p><p>Izuru doesn’t answer but Hajime understands anyway.</p><p>
  <strike> <b>I did not want you to think of me as just another one of his tormentors.</b> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>Souda slumps into the chair next to Hajime. </p><p>He swallows his toast. “Good morning.”</p><p>Souda doesn't reply, content to glare at Sonia. She’s sitting with Akane and Nidai and is dabbing at her mouth with a napkin as they rant about MMA pro-fighting. Komaeda is alone, an untouched bagel on his plate. He looks up and shakes his head dramatically. If Hajime was Izuru, he would be smiling and running hands through his hair, kissing him with unwanted - <em>unwanted</em>, Hajime finds himself having to stress far too often recently - passion.</p><p>Gundham slams his plate down across from Hajime. Souda mutters an insult under his breath.</p><p>“Get tired of the princess that easily?” Souda sneers. “You want someone to fight back, yeah? You’re tired of the same-”</p><p>“I’m tired of your neverending desire for validation,” Sonia joins them, sliding one leg over another. It's Souda (and Hajime) against Gundham and Sonia and neither side is willing to give in.</p><p>“I thought you liked me,” Souda says defensively. “Part of your dark court-”</p><p>“Even dark courts need <em>jesters</em>,” Gundham hisses over the breakfast table.</p><p>Hajime takes another bite of his bread and starts to wish that he’d sat with Komaeda after all.</p><p><b>I told you</b>, Izuru sniffs, his smugness overwritten by the apparent inconvenience of Souda and Gundham’s argument taking place over the cheese platter - something about nutrients and Hajime’s apparent vitamin B12 deficiency. </p><p>“Stop antagonising him,” Sonia scolds and Gundham clicks his tongue and Souda bristles at the implication that he needs someone else to fight his battles.</p><p>“Why are they fighting?” Hajime mutters under his breath.</p><p>
  <b>Gundham will have said something that Souda will have responded negatively to, Sonia will have tried to appease them both and failed miserably.</b>
</p><p>“I’m leaving,” Souda storms out.</p><p>“It will be three days before he returns,” Gundham mutters darkly, scraping his knife against his plate. Hajime wonders if he’s considering tying him to an elevator and watching him crash to his death.</p><p>“You need to be kinder,” Sonia chides softly and Gundham scoffs loudly. They don’t balance each other out enough, they need someone to laugh at them and remind them that the world is no longer in their throes.</p><p>It's just the sixteen of them and they can’t lose anyone. Still, they test each other.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on,” Peko says and Fuyuhiko’s plate crashes to the floor.</p><p>The room starts before he lights up, running and leaping into her arms. He pulls her into a deep kiss and Hiyoko squawks. The rest just stare, even Teruteru so caught off-guard at the affection that he doesn't even try to make a crude remark. Souda is staring at them blankly.</p><p>“You-” Fuyuhiko cuts himself off with a sob, beaming like one of the flickering light bulbs that are finally starting to work. “You told me to do something!”</p><p>Peko gasps but before she can apologise, Fuyuhiko tackles her into an even tighter embrace. “Young- Fuyuhiko, I-”</p><p>He kisses her again and this time she’s crying too, smiling and winding her arms around his shoulders.</p><p>Hiyoko pretends to throw up over her cereal and Mahiru chews on her lip, staring at the two. She hasn’t touched her food and looks close to <em>actually </em>throwing up. Hajime waits for Hiyoko to notice and support her. She doesn’t.</p><p>Hajime has had three girlfriends, one for each year of middle school and his favourite was always the last. She was quiet and studious with the same blonde hair as Sonia and the same height as Chiaki. They went on dates to the cinema and Hajime would pay for the popcorn. Afterwards, they’d go to a fast food joint and he'd listen to her dissect the themes and character motivations.</p><p>She always liked the villains, loved their backstories and relationships, and Hajime wonders what she’d think of Komaeda. She’d probably call him ‘misunderstood’.</p><p>They’d only kissed once, at a bus stop in the middle of Tokyo while it rained and Hajime’s umbrella shook in his hand. Hajime has kissed five people in his life but that’s the one that always comes to mind. He can’t remember why she broke up with him but it was probably because she’d found out he was only using her for study help to pass the Hope's Peak entrance exam.</p><p>“How hopeful,” Komaeda sighs and Hajime jumps at his sudden appearance. “How are you on this lovely tropical morning, Hinata-kun?”</p><p>“It's always a lovely tropical morning.”</p><p>“But isn’t it presumptuous for me to expect you to be the same every morning? Things can be so unpredictable for people like you!”</p><p>Hajime’s eye twitches. “One might think you cared.”</p><p>“One might!” Komaeda cheerfully agrees - slightly <em>too </em>cheerfully if Hajime is honest with himself. Izuru hums his accordance.</p><p>Peko is leading Fuyuhiko away now, hands clasped together and both crimson. </p><p>“P-Please use protection!” Mikan calls after them.</p><p>“Gross,” Hiyoko pulls a face; no matter how much has happened, old habits die hard and she will always be the spiteful child who enjoyed killing ants.</p><p>When Hajime turns, Komaeda has already disappeared again.</p><p> </p><p>The simulation was meant to represent their true selves, the ones that existed before Enoshima, before despair and before Hope’s Peak. After regaining their memories though, the killing game felt like something that had happened years ago - they had made decisions and spoken like the <em>them </em>of four years ago so really, was any of it real? Then again, Hajime remembers that six of them actively tried to kill people and realises that it doesn't <em>matter</em>. They were tainted before Enoshima and they’ll be tainted after.</p><p>77-A is dead, he knows that much. Togami’s older sister, the student council, sixteen students dead over their desks after Izuru had made the student council murder each other and the reserve course had stormed the main course. Would he have joined them? </p><p>Shamefully, he realises that the answer is yes, even without the despair.</p><p><em> Rigged it</em>, Fuyuhiko’s words float back to him. Nothing is perfect, nothing ever will be. </p><p>
  <b>Yet you tried to achieve that unreachability.</b>
</p><p>“I didn’t know better,” Hajime mutters, kicking a rock down the road. He’s on his fifth lap of the fourth island and the waves are a comforting metronome against his thoughts. </p><p>Hajime thinks about Komaeda’s mood swings and Nidai’s constant yelling and wonders what happened to them.</p><p>
  <b>Nidai has a heart condition. He’s predicted to die in the next two years.</b>
</p><p>And just like that, Hajime’s world skews a little more.</p><p>Nidai coached Kuwata Leon, Hajime remembers that, and he wonders how it felt watching him die brutally, destroyed by his talent. </p><p>
  <b>Tsumiki and Nagito were the only ones to actively care about that Killing Game.</b>
</p><p>That makes sense, Hajime supposes. Unwavering faith in Enoshima probably meant that they were confident despair would triumph.</p><p>
  <b>Sonia did watch one of the imitations in France, though.</b>
</p><p>“Imitations?”</p><p>
  <b>It was created by the Ultimate Despair - of course there would be copycats, though none so complex.</b>
</p><p>Hajime carries on and he sees familiar white hair out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>He turns and Komaeda is walking up a slope Hajime hadn’t noticed before. He looks up and visibly hesitates.</p><p>“Unlucky,” Komaeda sighs before walking past. “Hinata-kun.”</p><p>“Komaeda.”</p><p>“Good night,” Izuru says even though it's the middle of the day and the sun is frowning down at them.</p><p>Komaeda just nods at him, gazing into his red eye. “Thank you.”</p><p>As soon as he’s gone from sight, Izuru is urging him down the slope Komaeda had come from and Hajime slips on more than a few rocks as he disappears into a small opening in the earth and ducks through the dark to-</p><p>The opening of a cave, staring out at the ocean.</p><p>“There was an exit,” Hajime breathes, starting to smile.</p><p>Izuru’s satisfaction purrs alongside his own.</p><p> </p><p>It's during dinner, it's always during dinner, during breakfast, in the restaurant, when the Impostor sits up and says “I believe I will tell you all my name soon.”</p><p>It's silent and then Ibuki shrieks, jumping onto him while Sonia gushes congratulations and Nidai claps him on the back so hard the table shakes.</p><p>“Good for you,” Hajime smiles slightly at him and the Impostor graces him with one of his own. He means it, honestly, but he can’t help but think that it might not come out that way.</p><p>Sonia picks up an exotically spiced piece of fruit and glances at Souda under her eyelashes. Hajime doesn't really care if the three of them manage to fix their issues, he doesn’t miss the loud moans at two in the morning, but Komaeda is watching Gundham with his chin in his hand and Gundham is watching him back.</p><p>Souda rises and slides into the seat next to Sonia, silent. </p><p>And even if Ibuki avoids the music venue with everything she has and Mahiru always makes sure that there are at least four people between her and Peko, they’d call it progress.</p><p> </p><p>“Good evening, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda nods and Hajime turns to him. They’re in the old administrative building and there’s a small party behind the double doors next to them. He's sure the sunset is lovely but, once again, they can't see it.</p><p>“What if I was Izuru?”</p><p>Komaeda arches an eyebrow. “In what situation, Hinata-kun?”</p><p>It might be his imagination, but he feels like Komaeda stresses his name, like he’s reminding him of his place. “Any situation.”</p><p>Komaeda hums. “Well between the two, there’s Hinata-kun who’s a talentless waste of space and Kamukura whose very breath is hopeful - what a beautiful contrast!” Komaeda grabs his hands and Hajime stumbles back. “What a dichotomy, a duality, what delightful hope could come from this transformation!”</p><p>Hajime clenches his jaw. He thinks of the Komaeda who showed him around the island at the start and the Komaeda that lay dead among flames and blood. <strike> That wasn’t them, that was the them of four years ago, he reminds himself. What would Komaeda do now? </strike></p><p>“Thinking about the killing game,” Komaeda sighs, dropping his hands. “Dull. Repetitive. The marks of a true reserve course student.”</p><p>Hajime’s anger is rising but Komaeda doesn't stop.</p><p>“I suppose it's good that you recognised your own failures and became something better, something <em> much </em> better really, Kamukura-kun is-”</p><p>He slams Komaeda into the wall and he jerks forward but Hajime has Izuru’s muscles and Komaeda can’t lift his jacket on a bad day. Their faces are inches apart.</p><p>Komaeda is staring, grey-green eyes locked on him and for once, Hajime doesn't feel like he’s gazing into his red eye. “This is dangerous, Hinata-kun. I don’t want you to suffer.”</p><p>“Sometimes it feels like all you do is make me suffer,” Hajime returns. Conversation rises and falls behind the door and Hajime hears laughter. “We’re alone.”</p><p>Komaeda blinks languidly and one of his eyelashes is on his cheek, his skin is ever so slightly splotched and Hajime can pick out every single split end in his hair. “We were supposed to kill ourselves if we were ever apprehended. Other despairs did.”</p><p>“But not you.”</p><p>Komaeda lifts a hand to Hajime’s shoulder. “Not us.” </p><p>“Enoshima is dead.”</p><p>Komaeda’s eyebrows twitch in curiosity but Hajime’s decided that if he can’t keep up with Komaeda’s subject changes he might as well create his own. “Yes.” </p><p>“You loved her.”</p><p>Komaeda’s face twists in revulsion and when he speaks, he does it in the same tone that he spat at Hajime when he had fallen back into despair, his ‘<em>you’ </em> dragging over his skin. “But I also hated her. Ah, that’s another contrast. What a confusing conversation we’re having!”</p><p>“Komaeda,” Hajime grinds out. “What do you want?”</p><p>Komaeda’s eyes shutter, the green dulling. “Are you gathering information? We don’t have class trials anymore, Hinata-kun.”</p><p>“You are incorrigible,” the words fall off his tongue.</p><p>“I suppose I am,” Komaeda says lightly. “What would that make you?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Hopeless, maybe.”</p><p>“Well that’s disappointing,” Komaeda murmurs and Hajime swears his eyes drop down, just a little. Komaeda swallows. </p><p>“I suppose it is,” Hajime breathes and he lifts a hand to tuck a wisp of white hair behind his ear. His finger brushes pale skin and he wonders if Komaeda can feel his heartbeat race.</p><p>The toilet door bangs open. Ibuki walks past, eyes wide and eyebrows brushing her uneven hairline.</p><p>Komaeda is pressed into the wall, one of Hajime’s hands in his hair and one of Komaeda’s on Hajime’s shoulder.</p><p>“We’re fighting,” Hajime feels the need to clarify.</p><p>She just nods. “Mm-hm.”</p><p>They both watch her walk over the party and push open the doors.</p><p>“Guess what Ibuki just saw!” they hear her squeal before the doors close.</p><p>“Can you let go of me now, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda asks and Hajime takes a rushed step backwards. “I feel like a shower after that pathetic display. I wonder how I’ll ever get the talentlessness off of me!” he laughs and Hajime watches him walk away.</p><p>He turns and realises belatedly that the doors have been cracked open and no less than eleven people are watching him. Hiyoko is holding in giggles, Nidai gives him a sympathetic nod and Fuyuhiko is staring after Komaeda.</p><p> </p><p>Komaeda is rich, Hajime remembers one day in the supermarket, watching Souda with his hair knotted in a low bun breezily chatting with Akane about discounts the way only kids who’d really experienced poverty could.</p><p>Hajime imagines stacks of money carving through pale skin, hundreds and thousands of papercuts over the pale skin. He thinks, if he was Enoshima Junko, that might be how he would execute him. Maybe after they’d wrongly chosen a perpetrator, a selection of his classmates lined up waiting in the wings for their turn. Another day, another worryingly in-depth murder fantasy about his peers.</p><p>Hajime would probably just be shot, a boring death for a boring person.</p><p>Hajime shakes his head mentally. Komaeda would survive a method like that, he’d be littered with cuts and blood but he’d survive. It would have to be certain and finite, no room for error, no chance for escape.</p><p><b>If you want him dead,</b> Izuru interrupts. <b>Wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze. Watch the life drain from his eyes yourself. Hear the crunch of his trachea and feel the blood rush under your hands.</b></p><p>Hajime clicks at his tongue and turns away, annoyed at Izuru for spoiling his - what? <em>Fun</em>? </p><p> </p><p>“If you were Enoshima, how would you execute Komaeda?”</p><p>Peko stares at him. Too late, Hajime realises that this doesn't exactly pass for normal lunch conversation. </p><p>“Hypothetically,” he adds.</p><p>She swallows a bite of salad. “It would have to relate to his talent, correct? Perhaps Russian Roulette.”</p><p>“He’d survive that,” Hajime dismisses and she concedes the point with an incline of her head. Her hair is loose and silver in the sunlight. She’s attractive, wearing a loose white shirt and denim shorts but she could be naked in front of him and Hajime still wouldn’t care.</p><p>“Then something direct. Anticipation is a strong motivator. A coin flip, with the coin made of strong metal and large - no matter which way it lands it will crush him but one side will be decorated in more carvings so that there is the chance of it being more painful.”</p><p>Hajime imagines the coin rising, spinning and landing directly on its side, unnaturally thin so that it cleaves him neatly in half. He sees Komaeda’s blood pool over the floor and reach his shoes, pale mouth twisted up in half of a pained smile.</p><p>She’s brutal, simple and to the point. Hajime can see why Fuyuhiko likes her so much. She doesn’t waste his time with lies or tricks or acting, she could touch him, kiss him and he would know that that was all there was to it. Komaeda could propose to him and he’d still have seven other motivations. Hajime scoffs. Like the institution of marriage still exists in this hellscape.</p><p> </p><p>[<em>They’re sitting in front of a shrine and, for once, Izuru is the one injured. Komaeda’s fingers are quick, disinfecting the entry site, retrieving the bullet and staunching the blood flow. “You’d be surprised how useful even someone like me can be, Kamukura-kun,” he smiles. </em></p><p>
  <em> “Why are we here?” Izuru frowns and Komaeda laughs.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I assure you, I have no intention of forcing you into marriage, Kamukura-kun.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda’s fingers finally settle, smoothing over a bandage and resting on the warm skin. Komaeda is cold. “Good,” Izuru says. “White would wash you out even further.” </em>
</p><p><em> Komaeda’s head snaps up, lips parted in shock before Izuru claims them. He doesn’t mean what he says but it shuts the other boy up and that’s vastly preferable to having him mutter on and on and on and-</em>]</p><p> </p><p>Hiyoko takes one look at him and wrinkles her nose. “Gross.” </p><p>She’s walking past with Ibuki, the two of them are nearly inseparable these days but whether it's due to Hiyoko watching Ibuki die or Ibuki’s regret at dying so easily is anyone’s guess.</p><p>
  <strike> <b>Neither. They both committed similar atrocities during the Tragedy, they thrive on the familiarity.</b> </strike>
</p><p>
  <strike> “Or maybe they just like each other,” Hajime rolls his eyes.  </strike>
</p><p>Hajime blinks. “I’m sorry?”</p><p>She sniffs. “Good. Break his heart, I break your legs. You’d be surprised what I can do now. Besides, if you did it’d be such good luck a hurricane would probably hit the island.”</p><p>“Good luck?”</p><p>“He deserves way more than you. You’re unstable on your best days and he needs someone to support him. He deserves that much.”</p><p>Hajime remembers her shrieking at Komaeda and advocating for his abuse and realises that this is all long overdue. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”</p><p>Ibuki watches the two of them curiously, sipping at a drink from one of the striped straws from the diner. “Ibuki thinks that Hinata is being a little obtuse.”</p><p>“<em>Hiyoko </em>thinks that Ibuki should shut up and let her intimidate Hinata in peace,” Hiyoko waves a hand and the other girl blows her cheeks out but steps back. “I mean it.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Hajime says. “I know.”</p><p> </p><p><b>Another?</b> Izuru asks.</p><p>Hajime hesitates, a hand on his shoe to slip it off. “Ok.”</p><p>
  <em> “Ah, hello Kamukura-kun!” Komaeda beams up at him. “How lucky to find you in a place like this!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He’s in a pit of animal corpses in a Russian barn and there’s something that looks like porridge smeared down the side of his face. He’s in a stained white suit and his shoes are coated in brown. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Izuru unfurls a hand and Komaeda’s eyes widen like he’d thought Izuru had only come to gawk at him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He looks down and frowns as he tries to find an optimal exit route. Izuru is about to tell him before he steps forward and his foot sinks into the chest of a goat.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> There’s the slightest pucker in his smile before it smooths out. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I must say, Kamukura-kun,” his voice wavers as he picks his way through the corpses, tilting from side to side to try and keep his balance. There’s the crack of bone and the squelch of guts. “I could have sworn you were in Malibu!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Hanamura and the Impostor finish their work efficiently.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Well, that’s pointed,” Komaeda smiles. “I can’t help tornadoes!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No, someone like you cannot.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda slips and Izuru yanks him up, the two standing at the edge of the pit. Izuru flicks a clump of blood off of Komaeda’s shoulder. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda watches him curiously before turning away. “You aren’t going to ask?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Would you tell?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda gives him a wry smile over his shoulder, tugging off one of his shoes. A lake of blood and squashed organs splashes down to the ground. “Mikan lost her temper,” he waves a hand. “I’m sure she regrets it.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Izuru arches an eyebrow. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda’s smile grows. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What did you do?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It's more what I didn’t do, to be frank, Kamukura-kun,” Komaeda murmurs, clearly pleased. “Boilers that are not adequately maintained have such a nasty tendency to explode, don’t you think?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “She will try to kill you again.” </em>
</p><p><em> “No,” Komaeda shakes his head. “She won’t. She’s too consumed by misery and despair to do much of anything right now. That reminds me, how are </em> you <em> holding up, Kamukura-kun? This has been a sad week after all.” </em></p><p>
  <em> Izuru frowns. “Enoshima died thirteen days ago.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Oh,” Komaeda blinks before he shrugs it off. “Well, time can be slow-” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “How long have you been here?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’ve already answered your own question,” Komaeda assures him. “Now, answer mine!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “The chance of her dying did increase rapidly,” Izuru acknowledges. “From 3.8% at the beginning to 61% during the fifth trial and then to 97% by the time they’d finished their final investigation.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Wow,” Komaeda sighs and it sounds the furthest thing from mocking. “How utterly hopeless for her. I’m glad,” he declares, making for the exit of the barn.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Now what?” Izuru catches him, moving unnaturally quickly and slipping a hand around his thin wrist.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Hmm,” Komaeda tilts his head up to the sky, thin strips of sunlight emerging from the horizon. They’re hovering on the threshold between the outside and in. “First of all,” he lifts his mangled and warped left hand. “I believe she owes me something. And then… How about a holiday?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Izuru frowns. “You want to return to Towa City.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Komaeda smiles like he has to balance Izuru out. The temperatures are below freezing and Izuru is running through the mental calculations to work out how much water and nutrients Komaeda needs to balance out spending thirteen days- </em>
</p><p>Hajime comes to, his hand still on his shoe. He loosens it and it drops with a thud. “What was the good luck for that then?”</p><p>
  <b>He was captured by the Future Foundation for sixteen days before reaching Towa City and was taken care of by the Class 78-A survivors. They offered to drop most of his charges in exchange for information.</b>
</p><p>“And he refused,” Hajime sighs, running a hand down his face. </p><p>
  <b>No, he bit one of the guards’ ears off.</b>
</p><p>Hajime closes his eyes. “Ah.” </p><p> </p><p>“Is there anything else you wanted to know?” Naegi asks and Hajime shakes his head. The Ultimate Fortune-Teller is squatting at the bottom of the frame, watching a news feed on his tablet.</p><p>“H-how are the education initiatives in the third quadrant of the Kanto region?” Mitarai wonders and the Ultimate Swimmer ‘oo’s, moving into the frame.</p><p>“Three new primary schools have been established and the secondary is being renovated!” she grins, ponytail bobbing behind her like she’s in the water. “Don’t worry, we’re carrying on your work!”</p><p>“The budget may be decreased,” Togami tells him bluntly. “Repairing the main offices and hierarchy is the priority for the foreseeable future.”</p><p>“The ‘hierarchy’ is Naegi downwards,” she sticks out his tongue at him and Togami clicks his tongue. “And I thought you didn’t care about the Future Foundation?”</p><p>“I don’t!”</p><p>“He does!” Naegi beams. “He’s funnelling some of his funds that were protected in offshore accounts into the more neglected programs like education and cultural protection!”</p><p>Togami’s face darkens in annoyance but he doesn't deny the words.</p><p>“Can I speak to them alone?” Hajime’s lips are moving without his consent and he internally curses Izuru. Izuru ignores him.</p><p>“Of course,” Mitarai says, murmuring goodbyes and thank yous and other platitudes in increasing uselessness. Kirigiri walks in and he gives her a wave before finally leaving.</p><p>“Good evening, Hinata-san,” Naegi frowns slightly down at the news feed. “Did you-”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Izuru suddenly says and Naegi starts, looking up at the screen.</p><p>“What? Ah, I mean hello Kamukura-san, how are-”</p><p>“I wanted to apologise.”</p><p>Togami’s eyes narrow and he leans forward, one hand on the back of Naegi’s chair like Izuru is about to break through the screen. “For <em> what</em>, exactly?”</p><p>“For forcing you and your classmates into playing the Killing Game in Hope's Peak. It was my idea.”</p><p>There’s a crash, and the Ultimate Swimmer is halfway off her chair, tears streaming down her face and a hand pressed to her mouth.</p><p>Kirigiri’s eyes are wide. </p><p>“So, I’m sorry.”</p><p>Naegi looks heartbroken. “You-”</p><p>Izuru reaches over and turns off the connection. The room is silent.</p><p>“You,” Hajime finally swallows. “Was it really you?”</p><p><b>Yes</b>, Izuru answers, calm and without hesitation. <b>It was the fastest probable way to ensure despair took root as fast as possible across the world. There had to be no choice of hope. If it had succeeded that is.</b></p><p>“So… you made the student council kill each other,” Hajime remembers suddenly. “As what? A test run?”</p><p>
  <b>No. That was just to satisfy my curiosity.</b>
</p><p>“Ok,” Hajime whispers. “Ok.” </p><p>Maybe he really does belong on this island.</p><p> </p><p>“Good evening, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda blinks, lit up by the fridge lights. The door swings closed and they’re in darkness. It's too late for a sunset.</p><p>“Good evening,” Hajime repeats, flicking on the coffee machine. One of its lights switches on and it flickers before settling. It highlights Komaeda’s collarbones in frightening detail. </p><p>The machine starts to rumble, filling the quiet between them.</p><p>“I heard you bit someone’s ear off,” Hajime says and immediately curses his choice of topic.</p><p>Komaeda tilts his head. “Which time?” </p><p>The brunette sighs. “When you were arrested by the Future Foundation.”</p><p>“Oh!” Komaeda immediately perks up. “He was threatening to rape me.”</p><p>“Right,” Hajime slips into a seat at the counter and, after a beat, Komaeda joins him, one stool between them.</p><p>“Are you hungry?” Komaeda asks, sweeping a hand over the stacks of food across the kitchen. “There’s more sakuramochi in the fridge.”</p><p>Hajime frowns but Komaeda is smiling to himself. It is 2:49 AM and there is nowhere Hajime would rather be. The clock ticks on and the coffee machine finishes. Hajime pours himself a mug and takes a slow sip. He moves to offer Komaeda some before remembering that caffeine interferes with his pills. Everything interferes with his pills.</p><p>“Do you speak to him then?” Komaeda finally asks. “Kamukura-kun, does he…?”</p><p>“Yes,” Hajime says shortly. “Why?”</p><p>“Only curious, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda holds his hands up, pale fingers catching the light. He’s peering up at Hajime through his eyelashes and Hajime sits back down. “Can he hear me?”</p><p>Hajime waits but Izuru doesn’t respond. “Yes,” Hajime answers. Then, with a smirk, “he talks about you quite a lot.”</p><p>Komaeda freezes. Izuru seizes control and slams Hajime’s head into the counter-</p><p>“Shit!” Hajime yells, pain exploding behind his eyes.</p><p>“Hinata-kun!” Komaeda rushes to his side, hands hovering awkwardly between them. “Are you - did <em> he </em> do that?”</p><p>“Yes,” Hajime grinds out, raising a hand to cradle his forehead. He can feel a lump starting to form.</p><p>“That wasn’t very nice, Kamukura-kun,” Komaeda murmurs, pressing closer.</p><p>Hajime is still and he isn’t quite sure who’s in control.</p><p>“You should apologise.”</p><p>“Should I?” Izuru says and Hajime is left stranded, staring at the boy looking down at him through half-lidded eyes, lips curled in satisfaction.</p><p>“Mm-hmm,” Komaeda answers but his gaze is on Hajime’s green eye. “I imagine you’ve hurt his feelings quite badly.”</p><p>“Good,” Izuru says, curt and to the point. Komaeda laughs.</p><p>“Cruel as ever, Kamukura-kun.”</p><p>“How hypocritical,” Izuru says. “You are not a beacon of benevolence, Nagito. Most of the time, you are not even a spark.”</p><p>Komaeda’s jaw tightens. “Then there’s nothing to stop me from doing this.”</p><p>He tilts Izuru’s chin up and leans in.</p><p>Hajime feels the kiss like it's through a blanket, he feels the sensation of lips moving against his, he feels the brush of a tongue and the softness of Komaeda’s mouth under his teeth.</p><p>“Hinata-kun,” Komaeda breathes. “I wonder what you’re feeling.”</p><p>The thread of control is hanging in front of Hajime if he can just lift his hand and grab it, but Komaeda is trailing his lips down Izuru’s jaw and Hajime feels like a ghost is dragging their fingertips over his skin.</p><p>Just one tug and-</p><p>“Komaeda,” he whispers and he feels <em>everything</em>, the heat of his own cheeks, the brush of Komaeda’s hands in his hair and the strange familiarity of cold metal against his skull.</p><p>Komaeda pulls back with wide eyes before they arch into crescents. “Hello, Hinata-kun.”</p><p>Hajime surges forward and knocks Komaeda into the counter, lips frantic and heated. They share breaths and Komaeda pulls him closer, giggling under his breath.</p><p>The lights snap on.</p><p>“What are you doing?!” Teruteru shrieks. “How unsanitary! How impure!”</p><p>“Out of everyone on this island, I would have thought you to be the person least affected,” Hajime mutters and Teruteru frantically shakes a rolling pin at him.</p><p>“Not in the <em> kitchen</em>!”</p><p>“Oh well,” Komaeda shrugs, eyes twinkling. “Better luck next time, Hinata-kun!”</p><p> </p><p>“What happened to your forehead?” Mahiru exclaims, staring at the large bruise.</p><p>Hajime’s mind whirs, stuttering on an image of Komaeda at the beach sipping coconut juice, shirtless and smiling.</p><p>“Hit by a coconut,” he settles on.</p><p>Izuru sighs.</p><p> </p><p>“You need to seize your opportunities, Hinata,” Fuyuhiko points a chip at him. “It's not good letting them go.”</p><p>“I agree!” Nidai nods fiercely. “Every day is a new chance and every chance is a new day!”</p><p>Hajime remembers Izuru’s comment about his heart condition and finds himself nodding. If he only had a handful of years left, he would probably just shut down and panic. Nidai faces everything with that same optimism and Hajime can’t fault him for it.</p><p>“I know, but isn't it hard to constantly have that drive?”</p><p>“No!” Nidai shakes his head. “That drive comes from here!” he stabs Hajime’s heart with a thick finger and Hajime winces. “Without this, you have nothing.”</p><p>The table falls quiet as they eat and Hajime considers the words.</p><p>“Yo, Coach!” Akane raises a hand from the entrance. “I’m ready as ever!”</p><p>“Ah, Akane!” Nidai booms, rising to meet the gymnast. “I will fight you for exactly three minutes and we shall see how you hold up!” </p><p>The two of them leave, Akane bouncing up and down with anticipation and a wide grin.</p><p>“See?” Fuyuhiko asks. “They fight because they want to. They talk because they want to. They don’t lose chances because they’re too busy being pussies.”</p><p>“You’re starting to lose me now,” Hajime murmurs, swirling his straw through his smoothie.</p><p>“Look, I ain’t stupid and neither are you. The two of us… we survived longer than anyone else in this room.” Hajime glances around and realises that he’s right. Sonia and Souda are still in Gundham’s cottage. </p><p>“Do you love Peko?” Hajime asks suddenly and Fuyuhiko snorts, slumping back into his seat with arms crossed.</p><p>“Obviously. I just said you weren’t stupid, don’t make me look like an idiot so soon. Hinata, you need to take care of your woman! Well,” Fuyuhiko flushes pink. “You know what I’m - oi, you’re laughing aren’t you?! Watch it or I’ll-” he blinks, staring at his raised fist. “I’ll…”</p><p>“I get it,” Hajime smiles at him, trying to look reassuring. Izuru scoffs. “And,” his gaze slips onto Komaeda, sitting with Hiyoko and Ibuki in a diner booth. Ibuki says something and he laughs. “I’ll try. I really will.”</p><p>Fuyuhiko swallows a chip. “Good. You're both good people and… you suit each other,” he decides, rolling his shoulders back. </p><p>Hajime knows he isn’t lying, Fuyuhiko is fiercely loyal and once he decides someone is with him, they’re <em>with </em>him. Fuyuhiko claimed him in the simulation and after they’d woken up, he’d glued himself to Komaeda’s side, glaring at anyone who looked at him strangely. </p><p>“Thank you,” he says softly. “You’re a good friend.”</p><p>“Fuckin’ obviously, bastard,” Fuyuhiko mutters, hiding his crimson face by shoving a handful of chips into his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Hurry up!” Sonia calls, the wind whipping her hair back and forth. “Please be careful of slipping!”</p><p>Rain is battering down and the wind is screaming around them. They’re moving to the administrative building to take refuge in the basement from the incoming typhoon and Hajime is lugging a crate of electronics across the bridge with Mahiru. He's pretty sure Hiyoko jinxed them.</p><p>Fuyuhiko jogs past him back to the hotel site to grab more food supplies and Peko is hot on his heels, sword out like she can protect him from the forces of nature themselves.</p><p>Hajime reaches the central island and Komaeda is waiting to walk them over to the building - mud is starting to slide over the ground from the force of the rain and his luck has been flagged as the best bet of survival in situations like these since the Tragedy.</p><p>Hajime has a moment to rest as Mahiru catches her breath and dimly, he notices that Komaeda’s eyes are the same colour as the palm fronds swaying in the strong winds.</p><p>“Here, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda passes him a raincoat and Hajime takes it. It's crinkly and bright yellow but it does the job.</p><p>They pass the crate to the Impostor and Gundham, who are waiting in the building’s lobby, and rush down to the basement.</p><p>There’s a chorus of cheers as they enter and Souda flashes him a grin, crouched over a projector aimed at an old bedsheet. Hajime doesn’t know the film title but he recognises it as a horror film and supposes that it doesn’t really matter. Teruteru passes him some coffee and Hajime settles down against the wall. </p><p>A few minutes later, Sonia, Fuyuhiko, Peko and Komaeda all walk in and the doors are locked so casually Hajime could pretend that they weren't once stuck in a simulated island forced to kill each other.</p><p>“Lights, camera,” Souda mutters under his breath, fiddling with a dial. “Action!”</p><p>Hiyoko gives him a small bowl of popcorn and Komaeda slides into the space next to him that Hajime belatedly realises the rest of them deliberately left free.</p><p>There isn’t gasping and snuggling but there is laughter and booing over the special effects, critiques of the fighting and mocking of the dialogue.</p><p>
  <b>This lighting is not thematically coherent.</b>
</p><p>“Ultimate Film Critic,” Hajime smiles.</p><p><b>Then again</b>, Izuru hesitates. <b>I suppose life is not either.</b></p><p>Hajime’s smile widens. “That’s the spirit.”</p><p>“Did you say something, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda asks and Hajime shakes his head, staring at the film. </p><p>Peko and Fuyuhiko are leaning against each other and Sonia is in Gundham’s lap with Souda’s head on her shoulder. </p><p>“What were the odds of this?” Hajime says and Komaeda blinks. “I don’t imagine Jabberwock Island gets many tropical storms.”</p><p>“Yes,” Komaeda swallows. “I suppose this may have been rather unlucky.”</p><p>Hajime’s hand twitches and Komaeda meets him, their fingers intertwining. “I wonder what the good luck will be.”</p><p>[There’s a ripple of nudges and inhales and money is sent in a Mexican wave around the room to pool at Fuyuhiko’s feet. </p><p>“You shouldn’t rig bets,” Peko quietly chides him but she brushes their noses together.</p><p>“Please, I only gave them a little nudge,” Fuyuhiko rolls his eyes. </p><p>“I know,” Peko gazes at him softly. “You did the right thing as their friend.”</p><p>“Damn straight,” Fuyuhiko smirks. “Another hour with nothing and Hiyoko would’ve won.”]</p><p>[“Finally!” Ibuki says before she’s quietened with an elbow to the ribs. “Aw, Ibuki’s so happy!”</p><p>Hiyoko pouts, clearly more annoyed about the loss of money than pleased about the development. “Whatever. Just another couple around to be gross.”</p><p>Mahiru sighs and tugs at her hair lightly. “Maybe if you found someone to be gross with, you wouldn’t hate it so much.”</p><p>Hiyoko’s frown deepens. “<em>Everyone</em> on this island is gross.”</p><p>“Even Ibuki-chan?” Ibuki leans into her space and Hiyoko sniffs, pointedly turning away.</p><p>“<em>Especially </em> Ibuki-chan.” </p><p>Her ears are pink.]</p><p>[“Since when?” Mitarai gapes at the two. “I thought Komaeda-san hated him!”</p><p>“I’m sure he does,” the Impostor smiles to himself. “But this has been in the works for quite some time, I assure you.”</p><p>Mikan yawns. “Ko-Komaeda-san has always liked Hinata-san. But I didn’t know it was requited until recently!”</p><p>The Impostor watches her carefully but she’s just another girl now, tired and regretful. “Yes.” It isn’t his forgiveness but it's the closest she’ll get.]</p><p>[“He went with his heart,” Nidai grins softly at them. </p><p>“What?” Akane asks, swallowing some popcorn. She follows his gaze and rolls her eyes. “So?” </p><p>“Let’s hope they decide to partake in certain activities <em> away </em> from the sanctity of my kitchen,” Teruteru mutters darkly.]</p><p>[“Called it!” Souda fist-pumps. “Horror films always work!”</p><p>“That film wasn’t particularly scary,” Sonia smiles sweetly at him. “But I’m sure your guidance greatly increased their chances of success!”</p><p>Gundham hums. His scarf is draped across the three of them and each breath one of them takes travels like a shockwave through the fabric to remind them that they aren’t alone anymore.</p><p>Gundham’s arms tighten around Sonia and she pulls Souda closer in response.</p><p>“Love you two,” Souda mumbles into her shoulder and she beams, kissing his forehead.</p><p>“I love you two too.”</p><p>Gundham clears his throat, slightly maroon. “I also possess romantic inclinations towards the pair of you.”</p><p>She giggles and they fall into each other, somehow slotting together perfectly.]</p><p>[Somewhere across the world, Kirigiri gets an email notification from Jabberwock Island with a photo attachment. It's a picture of two hands loosely joined and the caption ‘guess you shouldn’t doubt the Ultimate Detective’. </p><p>She smirks and texts Togami to let him know that she won the bet and wants wine with dinner.]</p><p> </p><p>The sun is setting and, for once, they have a perfect view.</p><p>“I don’t love you,” Komaeda says, sudden and smiling. “Not yet.” </p><p>Hajime hums. “I don’t know if I’ve ever loved anyone.” </p><p>A bird caws.</p><p>Komaeda rests his cheek in his palm and Hajime takes his hand again. They don’t fit together perfectly and maybe they never will: Komaeda’s metal fingers will never be fully articulated and the cold is shocking but there’s still that lingering promise of ‘<em>yet </em>’.</p><p>“This will likely get quite complicated I suppose,” he says. “Between you and Kamukura-kun I have quite the hassle on my hands.”</p><p>Hajime rolls his eyes. “You will always be more annoying than me.”</p><p>Komaeda wheezes into his elbow and Hajime freezes before he lifts his head, cheeks flushed and grin honest. “How rude, Hinata-kun!”</p><p>“It's true,” Izuru says and Komaeda looks at him with a raised eyebrow. </p><p>But Hajime has one more question.</p><p>“When were you going to tell me about the cave’s exit?”</p><p>Komaeda tilts his head. “There are many caves in these islands, Hinata-kun.”</p><p>“The one you told me we were stranded in a month ago.”</p><p>He doesn’t reply for a moment and Hajime smirks.</p><p>“Probably never!” Komaeda turns to him, beaming. “But no harm, no foul!”</p><p>He knocks Hajime’s shoulder.</p><p>“And wouldn’t you say that everything worked out for the better?”</p><p>Hajime shakes his head in disbelief but when Komaeda flashes that carefree smile, Hajime can’t understand a single word he says.</p><p>“I think,” Komaeda says. “That tomorrow will be a lovely tropical morning.”</p><p>Hajime smiles. Tomorrow, he’ll get up, walk another lap of the six islands and listen to his peers' conversations. </p><p>Despite the monotony, despite the other person scratching in the back of his head, the promise of tomorrow is too good to give up.</p><p>He squeezes Komaeda’s hand and the metal fingers twitch in his grasp. Pink explodes over the horizon as the sun kisses the ocean and, behind them, the island has been devastated from the typhoon. Their friends are yelling out instructions and passing materials back and forth. The only cottage intact is Komaeda’s.</p><p>“I look forward to it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>izuru and komaeda: *interact in literally any way*<br/>hinata: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aF1qQxPhybE">*</a></p><p>my crush on fuyuhiko really jumped out in this one, huh</p><p>kudos and comments make me basically cry w happiness lol :))))))</p><p>while i acknowledge danganronpa 3, this fic is a pretty nice interpretation of that one pirates of the carribean quote that says ‘the code is more what you call guidelines than actual rules’ so *shrug*</p><p>references:<br/>- Togami Kijo is apparently Togami's father?? Idk, according to Google<br/>- War and Peace - basically just the title, Komaeda's life coming in good and bad luck cycles and he has had to adapt to both. Hajime is also written a lot like Pierre Bezukhov in that he's questioning life and its purpose, why they're there and why the things that happened did. Pierre also eventually marries Natasha who's experienced misfortune and trickery from the other men in her life while being shunned by her family - despite this, her defining characteristics are jubilance and enthusiasm for life.<br/>- Dante's Inferno - in short, a book where Dante's guided through Hell by Virgil, someone he heavily idolises to reach Heaven. It kind of represents how Izuru is guiding Hajime through their past with the dreams and how Hajime thought Izuru would be perfect with all the talents he could have.<br/>- Pride and Prejudice - Elizabeth Benet and Mr Darcy bicker back and forth for most of the book, Elizabeth heavily disliking him before realising that she's been unfair and making hasty judgements. Darcy, in turn, presents himself as prideful and aloof due to his lack of social grace. Also, Darcy frequent insults Elizabeth's social status, something that was crucial in standing. The two of them obvs get together at the end. Again, this is mainly due to the title and both Komaeda and Hajime's distrust of the other.<br/>- "When [Komaeda] flashes that carefree smile, [Hajime] can’t understand a single word he says" [from report card]</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://prettylittlespirit.tumblr.com/">tumblr :)</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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